Tilly And The Wall Bottoms Of Barrels by: Joseph Coscarelli Mon:25-Jun-07 Label: Team Love Year: 2006 WB rating 91 out of 100

Tilly and the Wall might just kill you with kindness. It'd be easy to say that the band sings and plays with a hop in their collective step if this hop wasn't so unimaginably consistent but this band is just skipping through life, all jump rope, hopscotch, and gumdrops under rainbows on sunny days, the peak of jubilation after the storm has cleared. Don't underestimate, though; beyond pearly-white smiles, innocent doe-eyes and family-friendly indie-folk are burning little embers of mischief and rebellion and even grief -- but mostly, an adolescent exuberance that manifests itself in snarl and four-letter words, like drinking with friends or sexy, small-town physical attraction. Tilly and the Wall secrete a sweaty but sensual bounce, a comprehension of youth and the sounds that should score it.  

Oh, yeah -- this is "that tap-dance" band. No drum-kit, just heel-toe clicks and stomps, but I'll be damned if Jamie Pressnall does dance her way into your heart. No gimmicks to be found, because as it turns out, Pixie Stix don't make good drum sticks and the only hyper-happy percussive alternative was a pretty girl with quick feet.  

Throughout Bottoms of Barrels most guitars are acoustic and the song's skeletons don't stray far from their Saddle Creek, Omaha folk-scene roots as Nick White (resident Bright Eyes keyboardist) provides tinkering piano to the acoustic strums, but this is Nebraska on its sunniest Summer day. All vocals are a group affair with Derek Pressnall holding down the low-end in a warm voice not too far from Rilo Kiley's male lead, Blake Sennet. But like their former label-mates, the allure is in the female foil, in this case, the one-two punch of Neely Jenkins and Kianna Alarid play the Jenny Lewis role and harmonize as one through the band's long and winding lyrical verses. The folk, though, is drowned out and remains only in undertones by a pop sensibility largely the result of the gang vocals and the rich incorporation of electronic beats, organ, trumpets, sax and bells.  

The Latin-flavored Almodóvar tribute of 'Bad Education has stomps, handclaps, strings and accordion setting a rollicking ethnic vibe for tales of cross-dressing, sexual development and even humping, not far from the film of the same name. An album highlight and a truly unique track, the song is a window into the band's soul, self-assured but still charming, a cocksure display of eclecticism and song-writing prowess. Opener 'Rainbow in the Dark' is a an upper and feel-good anthem not afraid to tackle heavier subject matter, packed with stories of childhood, and again, sexual maturity but bleeds understanding as the band reminds us that, "sometimes you can't hold back the river." 'Sing Songs Along' is a mission statement in the vein of the band's signature track, 'Nights of the Living Dead' from their debut Wild Like Children. On 'Living Dead', Tilly chanted "I want to fuck it up and I feel so alive," and extend this sour side and rebellious nature on 'Sing Songs Along' as they promise to "wake up your mothers and start a commotion." A commotion, indeed.  

Finally seeing Australian release after one year Stateside, Bottoms of Barrels has been a constantly recurrent listen for this writer, with its nooks and crannies still revealing themselves after an entire year and my admiration only growing. The album's stellar replay value, though, is cemented in balance, for as everyone knows, cheerfulness is often fleeting. Tilly and the Wall prove they comprehend this on their ballads, strategically placed throughout Barrels, refraining from sugar rush by tugging at heartstrings. Neely Jenkins takes the lead on the beautiful, delicate 'Lost Girls' and her voice soars while Derek Pressnall takes a turn on 'Love Song' and proves that this band might still yet graduate from puppy love to romance (Pressnall married the band's tap dancer last summer).

But it's his second turn at balladry, the album closer 'Coughing Colors', that solidifies the band's capacity for expression at every end of the emotional spectrum, from fight song to spirited obituary. 'Coughing Colors' is a mournful piano ballad complete with gospel-worthy background harmonies, an ode to a tragic female heroine, the kind of girl who "liked to lose and never wore Sunday shoes," a real "downtown kind of baby," if you will. This is the kind of girl that brings in sunshine and summons the wind with just a wave of her hand- a loyal, almost mythical figure who as Pressnall articulates,  would just as easily "give you her coat or put nails through her hands." The simple truth is that we all know this person and it's this direct empathy -- through sex, defiance, and love -- that make Tilly and the Wall the sort of songwriters, nay, the sort of people, that everyone could use in their lives.