Lilly Wood and the Prick Teeter On a Wing and a Prayer

Tonight I bring before you an example of how repetition both destroys a song and elevates a song to a new level. Here to help me we've got, straight from Paris, land of baguettes and an unusual Jerry Lewis fixation, Lilly Wood and the Prick. They come before us with a story that if it were any more depressing would send the rate of lost souls jumping off bridges to unprecedented heights. That story calls itself "Prayer In C". First let's talk about the repetition element that gives the song its captivating jolt. Yes, electric guitar, I'm pointing straight at you. A chord, C chord, G chord, D chord. Over and over, not ever hard to put up with. This harmony swerves across your brain pan like it owns the property. No matter whatever sound textures get thrown into the soup the taste is intoxication with a capital "I". Trust me the passageway has lots of quirky components gluing it together. If you've been dancing along to "Prayer In C" I get why. Upfront the Euro house blend punctures aural taste buds left and right. Bored with one percussion strain? The beat goes beachfront in this nugget's later stages. Now...I did promise you the negative, detrimental side of repetition. That's Nili Hadida's fault. It's true her unique tonsil flashers make it impossible for anyone to avert his gaze completely. Then again you'd likely be able to say that about four eighteen wheelers collided end to end on IH-35 at rush hour so don't wet your pants too much over the excitement value here. Her voice haunts on its own distinct plateau. Even scarier is the doomed, bottom of the barrel, no opportunity to advance upward psychological prison Nili paints. For openers she rips into her main man and, who I'm guessing has been demoted to ex-love interest. He didn't send her no letter so forgiveness, I'll have to ask you to leave. Want rays of sunshine to pop up soon? You're not going to find them in verse two. The world is slowly dying. Always a mood lifter. I appreciate that she wants to get down to the nitty gritty of living but her raspy, I need a glass of something, ideally in liquid form turn at the mic leaves me worried that Nili should have been taken off life support eons ago. Next we get the well duh aging road markers (gray hairs and wrinkled up hands). This lyrics are a booze dispenser version of winning the lottery. Moving on down this highway of gee whiz Nili tells us the children sitting in the ashes that used to be home sweet home, empty bellies only salting up the pain, aren't in a forgiving mind set. You wouldn't be either if your stomach was bitchy and your address was a big fat question mark. How sadly ironic. The song's called "Prayer In C" but the guitar playing doesn't stay in C. Also, I can't make out anything close to forgiveness. Every group of human beings in this song right down to downtrodden Romeo in his final hours lashes out at Romeo. Did he cause the kids to be hungry and homeless? Did he cause seas to ravage continents and wipe out mankind? Then give the poor dude a break. "Prayer In C" plays the merciless chord too often for anybody to think overkill beyond the pale. What's broken isn't clear. What is plain is that there's Hindenburg sinking gloom as far as the ears can hear. Two points to Lilly Wood and the Prick for demonstrating they speak gloom like natives. I don't suppose the Prick was so named because that's the descriptive noun Nili was hoping to elicit from listeners. Well played. We'll always have that swoon encouraging guitar to remember this trip to Paris by. Otherwise I'm not itching for all this bitching. With savvy judgment you won't be either.