it’s a wonder that she’s still
functioning at all.
It’s hard not to view The
Lamb as the conclusion to some
unwritten
bildungsroman,
but West has been careful to
clarify that things aren’t so
clear cut. For now, there may
not be a definitive end point
in her journey from addiction
to sobriety. This sentiment
is encapsulated in a single
lyric on “Water Over Sex,”
the album’s second single,
where West delicately croons,
“You think I’m good well I
want to be gooder.” This is
characteristic of her lyrical
style, where communication
— if sometimes extremely
oblique — takes priority over
correctness and blunt honesty
comes through in both diction
and delivery.
Lala Lala’s first release,
Sleepyhead
(2016),
was
recorded
as
a
three-piece
— guitar, bass and drums.
For The Lamb, West and co.
break out the synths and
the drum machine in a big
way.
The
introduction
of
“Water Over Sex” feels like
something out of Porches’s
Pool
(2016),
and
“Dove”
shimmers
with
a
warbly,
aquatic glow punctuated with
harsh,
emotive
harmonies.
Where the guitar tone across
Sleepyhead
is
brilliantly
chunky, The Lamb’s is much
cleaner
and
shares
more
melodic responsibility with
the synthesizer.
For all the differences from
its
predecessor
—
which,
according
to
a
Bandcamp
piece on Lala Lala, West
“doesn’t even consider … a real
album” — The Lamb holds onto
the same forward energy that
made Sleepyhead a standout
debut.
West
consistently
discovers hooky, ostensibly
obvious melodies in places
you’d
think
had
already
been drilled dry. The Lamb
also
finds
West
seriously
exploring her upper register
for the first time. Opener
“Destroyer”
might
be
the
best example, where she sings
“You are the reason my heart
broke behind my back” in a
downward cascade that starts
higher than she ever sang on
Sleepyhead and ends in her
most comfortable range, talk-
singing plainly but forcefully.
On the same day of the
album release, Lala Lala put
out a video for “Scary Movie,”
The Lamb’s ninth track. In
it, a couple takes turns flying
a kite on the beach as skips
and imperfections in the film
flash upon the screen. The
man and woman in the video
are West’s parents, and the
film taken before West was
born, though she discovered
it only recently. Nostalgia
flows freely from the video,
while West’s troubling lyrics
float above: “Spilling blood
is ugly / Unless I know it’s
mine,” “This knowing leads
to horror / There’s hands
around my neck.” Captured
here is the ultimate conflict of
The Lamb, where sweetness,
love, protectiveness and a
desire to keep getting better
are all at war with paranoia,
anxiety, violence and fear of
abandonment.
When all’s said and done,
West doesn’t have any clear
answers for us. What she
presents is a raw, thoroughly
unpretentious reflection on
being an imperfect human.
One who lies, who sometimes
drinks too much, who is hurt
and hurts, who wants to be
“gooder” but doesn’t always
have the energy to do so, or
even know how. One who, at
the end of the day, still needs
to eat. The Lamb is a bold but
sure second step for West, and
one that points to a bigger and
better future no matter what
the past may have held.
Catch Lala Lala at the
Loving Touch in Ferndale,
MI on Friday, Nov. 23rd with
WHY? and the Ophelias.
I was first exposed to Lillie
West’s Lala Lala project just
over a year ago. The Chicago-
based group — a three-piece
on tour — was opening for
Surf Curse at Marble Bar in
Detroit, and their set featured
visuals that were produced
and projected live on a drop-
down screen above the band.
The image was just “Lala
Lala” tiled across the screen
with
various
effects
and
filters applied — relatively
simple stuff — but the display
hinted at an enthusiasm and
willingness
to
create
and
explore
different
ways
of
presenting a project. It was
technically
a
“multimedia”
performance, I suppose, but it
felt counterintuitively raw and
unpretentiously DIY.
I later had the privilege
of seeing Lala Lala open for
Frankie Cosmos, but before
then caught one of Lala Lala’s
bassist Emily Kempf’s other
projects opening for the D.C.-
based Flasher. The project,
called Dehd, is a collaboration
between Kempf and NE-HI
guitarist-vocalist Jason Balla.
Balla, in turn, releases solo
material
under
the
name
Accessory, and put out the
excellent Blue Tape at the end
of this past summer. Seeing
Dehd — their raw energy,
movement
on
stage
and
incredibly hooky guitar riffs
— and recognizing Kempf was
actually what prompted me to
revisit Lala Lala. When I did,
I was delightfully surprised
and, wanting more, I began my
descent down the rabbit hole
of this particular nook of the
Chicago indie scene. There I
discovered
the
connections
between
these
artists
and
more:
Melkbelly,
Whitney,
Twin Peaks, Post Animal,
Grapetooth — the list goes
on. It’s not all that surprising
that these people know each
other, but the amount of
collaboration
and
support
that
exists
between
them
is impressive and uniquely
heartening.
The
Lamb,
Lala
Lala’s
second album and first since
West made the decision to
go
sober,
seems
in
some
ways a manifestation of the
camaraderie that exists within
the scene and between West
and other friends. Anxiety and
paranoia, to which West says
her sobriety has contributed,
also perfuse the album. On the
record’s penultimate cut, West
sings “Keep my friends safe
keep my friends close / Keep
my friends safe night and day
/ Keep my friends safe now
and always.” Titled “When
You Die,” the track functions
as a prayer, one in which West
has taken the phrase “live
every day like it might be your
last” to heart. When she’s not
around to protect those close
to her, she has to make sure
someone is.
It’s important to note that
West’s paranoia is far from
unwarranted. While writing
the album, she suffered more
than one personal loss, and
an intruder broke into her
home. “I wish Herc hadn’t
died, I wish I hadn’t gotten
robbed,” she sings on “I Get
Cut.” Compounded by her
adjustment to sobriety and
the stress inherent in being a
young, independent musician,
‘The Lamb’: A lot has changed for Chicago’s Lillie West
SEAN LANG
Daily Arts Writer
ALBUM REVIEW
HARDLY ART RECORDS
HARDLY ART RECORDS
The Lamb
Lala Lala
Hardly Art
What she
presents is a
raw, thoroughly
unpretentious
reflection
on being an
imperfect human.
One who lies,
who sometimes
drinks too much,
who is hurt and
hurts, who wants
to be “gooder” but
doesn’t always
have the energy
to do so, or even
know how
6A — Monday, October 1, 2018
Arts
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com