You’re Old with Lilly Hiatt
It’s difficult to avoid becoming jaded. It’s a natural reaction to overconsumption of something. And by our 20s, we’ve had to consume life for over 20 goddamn years.
There are certain things you can do to spark that feeling of fresh wonder. You can do yoga, take an overdose of laxatives, masturbate aggressively, drink heavily, inject heroin, kick strangers on the street, or engage in light larceny, all of which, except the yoga, are perfectly healthy options that will afford you a brief moment of altered perspective.
We’ll never experience that pure nonviolent, nonsexual, sober, Dulcolax-free enthusiasm again. And that’s a vague sense of loss that will endure until we get to die. But there’s an upside. Children are idiots. As long as we’re pissed off, it means at least we’re intellectually superior to one large section of society.
Speaking of riding waves of intellectual superiority in order to justify a sense of listlessness, Lilly Hiatt is putting on a livestreamed performance of her new album.
At once electrifying and dreamy, the follow-up to Hiatt’s breakout ‘Trinity Lane’ cements her as a vital voice. Holed up last winter, she wrote the songs that tie together her exhilarating new album Walking Proof. It’s a potent listen, shored up by indie rock atmospherics, jangly R.E.M. guitars, and Hiatt’s straightforward country-like songwriting.
Children are happy because they lack an internal moral compass. Once we grow and have that compass crammed up our holes, experiencing happiness requires effort.
Listening to Lilly Hiatt won’t make you happy, but it’ll make you cool. And that’s a currency far more valuable and sustainable than happiness.