Lilys / Swirlies / Knitting Factory / May 23, 2003
Lilys mainstay, Kurt Heasley, and Swirlies mastermind, Damon Tutunjian have a lot in common. Both originally took inspiration from cynical trailblazing UK noise-rock shoegazers Jesus & Mary Chain and My Bloody Valentine; gained significant underground prominence around ’92; survived some lean years; and returned to the studio for worthy ’03 albums promoted for curious Knitting Factory patrons this rainy Friday eve.
Splitting time living between New York and Boston, Tutunjian assembled a new Swirlies crew consisting of guitarist Rob Laasko, Mice Parade drummer Adam Pierce, and fill-in keyboardist-backup vocalist Doro Tachler (with Lilys bassist Mike Walker joining for several tunes). Losing none of the resilient ambitiousness and wide-eyed enthusiasm best expressed on ‘93 apex, Blonder Tongue Audio Baton, the Swirlies paraded through a revelatory 45-minute set mostly featuring choice cuts from the recent seven-song Cats Of The Wild Volume 2 (Bubblecore Records), their first release in nearly eight years.
Delivering blissfully distorted compositions with unlikely concision, Tutunjian’s latest lineup piled scree textural warmth to escapist ephemera, pausing at length between numbers for proper tuning. Pretty melodies underlined scruffy psychedelic-tinged indie pop mindbenders. Warped chord structures and swelling reverb hovered above the trebly bottom end, shaping dizzyingly serene blues-y schisms post-collegiate brainaics sucked up like free beer.
Afterwards, Philly-via-DC’s newfangled Lilys were unable to reinvigorate the lissome verve of their respectable fifth long-player, Precollection (Manifesto Records). Heasley’s dryly absurdist humor lost half the crowd and a few casual acoustic turnabouts seemed laborious. A drunken spectator at the back of the club started heckling him during one of his drawled spoken rants, requesting Elton John’s “Rocket Man” for no apparent purpose. Happily, Heasley came back with some hilarious putdowns and the Nazi-like Manhattan cigarette patrol caught the drunkard smoking butts (a definite no-no in these conservative times), silencing him for the remaining half-hour.
Despite the Lilys inconsistencies, Heasley’s picturesque lyrics illuminated Precollection’s sturdiest material, as well as hot nuggets from ‘99s appreciable The 3 Way. The absolutely radiant “Squares” was an undeniable highlight. But while Heasley’s sweeping caterwauls and unguarded optimism definitely kept long-time admirers attentive throughout, those sitting on the fence may’ve been unmoved or unimpressed.
