Posts Tagged ‘Walking Proof’

candy lunch

Following up on her highly acclaimed Trinity Lane LP (2017), singer-songwriter Lilly Hiatt drops a vivid new video for her single “Candy Lunch”. Directed and edited by Joshua Britt and Neilson Hubbard, the film uses its colour palette to carry the storyteller’s reflections. Although stunning in its brightness, for the most part, the camera’s focus remains on the raconteur. Which in turn provides the kind of intimacy the deeply personal lyrics deserve.

“Candy Lunch” is from the songwriter’s 2020 album, ‘Walking Proof’, out now via New West Records. And according to a label statement, the set is produced by one time Cage the Elephant guitarist Lincoln Parish and features a first-time collaboration with Hiatt’s father, the legendary songwriter-performer John Hiatt. As well as contributions by friends Amanda Shires (The Highwomen) and the famed Aaron Lee Tasjan.

Check out the new video and make sure to follow the links for album updates and details. And spend some time feasting your eyes on the beautiful psychedelic artwork by Kim Radford. Written by Lilly Hiatt

Lilly Hiatt’s new album Walking Proof may prove to one of 2020’s most universally relatable thanks to a single line on the chorus of “P-Town”: “Don’t you hate when people say it is what it is?” Unless you’re Joe Pesci in The Irishman and you’re adding in a contraction, there’s never a time when “it is what it is” benefits the person you’re saying it to: You’re better off with either a shrug. They’re useless gestures, but at least they’re transparently useless. Think about the last time you had a shitty day and an acquaintance told you that you were fated to have a shitty day, so you might as well accept the shit; you’ll find yourself wishing “P-Town” had existed at the time so you could shake off that flaccid old bromide with big, swaggering guitar riffs and swelling electric organ.

This is music to liberate yourself to-music that reminds listeners of Americana’s versatility as a genre and the palliative effects a good, expressive rock song can have on the soul. We’ve all taken a road trip that wound up going wrong, whether the kind of wrong where everything goes off the rails or the sort where everyone’s out of sync and nothing’s as fun as it’s supposed to be. That’s the heart of “P-Town” specifically, but the spiritual relief derived from rock ’n’ roll and Americana makes up Walking Proof’s whole. It’s baked into the record from start to finish: “I throw caution to the wind, and don’t give a damn,” Hiatt chimes on the record’s opener “Rae,” a twangy tune about the dual pleasures of pretending to be someone other than who you are and having someone in your life who knows you on a molecular level. There’s a caution to “Rae” in its first 45 or so seconds that belies Walking Proof’s prevailing confidence: Hiatt’s voice rings so quietly, so meekly, that for but a moment it feels like she’s tricking her audience. Walking Proof is, after all, neither quiet nor meek, though it does have its share of hushed tracks.

P-Town released on New West Records, 2020-01-31
Composer: Lilly Hiatt

Walking Proof

Lilly Hiatt’s excellent new album? Well, she is just so consistent in her approach. While the songs aren’t repetitive by any stretch, they are all built on a tasty guitar lick before Lilly’s voice hooks me like a marlin as she paints these vignettes of good times and bad. Overall, this album is a little less personal than Trinity Lane and has a sound that leans a little more to the rock side than the Americana side.

“Don’t you hate when people say, ‘It is what it is,’” Lilly Hiatt sings in “P-Town.” But there’s nothing left to fate on the songwriter’s Walking Proof, a deliberate record of tight jangle-rock songs and ethereal ballads. Like “P-Town,” “Brightest Star” mines R.E.M. Monster-era guitars, while the hypnotic “Drawl” is a meditation on self-repair. In “Little Believer,” she tells a tale of neglect with an author’s attention to detail (“A man caught a shark and he set it free/I started clapping, and he laughed at me”). Hiatt found her voice on 2017’s Trinity Lane; here, she fine-tunes her instrument into the sound of a new Nashville.

The album has a few timely tracks for our self-isolation. P-Town tackles a shitty day with humor and exasperation. Candy Lunch wants you to be able to deal with the shit we can’t control; make the best of the situation. Drawl wants us to find the beauty in the simple things; something I have been trying to do these last couple of weeks. Hiatt continues to cement her place at the table of the best songwriters around these days. She is as consistent as they come.


Lilly Hiatt’s songs are disarmingly personal and immensely endearing, even when she’s singing about fucking up—which is pretty often. There’s an almost parasocial element to Hiatt’s song writing: Her voice is like that of an old friend who’s perpetually in various stages of getting her shit together. Hiatt’s fourth album, Walking Proof, forms something of a thematic trilogy with her last two albums: 2015’s Royal Blue, a portrait of a relationship in its death throes, and 2017’s harder, darker Trinity Lane, which depicted its immediate aftermath. Hiatt spent both albums seeking solace and guidance for her troubles everywhere she could, from family to her favourite records. On Walking Proof, she’s emerged wiser and more confident, ready even to dispense advice of her own. She also finds herself in full command of her broad stylistic palette, melding influences as disparate as backwoods country and garage punk into a cohesive signature sound. There are a couple of lingering references to Hiatt’s past relationship problems. But when, in the hauntingly stark closer “Scream,” she claims, “I swear to God I’m done with him,” it’s convincing this time.

Released March 27th, 2020
Lilly Hiatt: vocals, guitar
John Condit: guitar
Robert Hudson: bass, mandolin
Kate Haldrup: drums
Lincoln Parish: guitar, keys
Travis Goodwin: keys

Aaron Lee Tasjan: guitar on “Little Believer,” vocals on “Never Play Guitar”
John Hiatt: vocals on “Some Kind of Drug”
Amanda Shires: vocals and fiddle on “Walking Proof,” vocals on “Drawl”
Luke Schneider: pedal steel on “Move”

All songs written by Lilly Hiatt