Worth a shout-out: Lily Holbrook downstairs on the Red Line at Park Street last night was bananas. Her album Everything Was Beautiful and Nothing Hurt rated strictly meh when it crossed our desks about a year and a half ago. Not for lack of a voice, because she's got a real sweet one -- not even Mary Lou ever cut through subway rumble and idle chatter the way Lily's did as we came around the corner on our way to the Bang Camaro shindig. Lily's got that real effortless, piercing, soaring thing going on -- like whoa. Her songs ("gothic renaissance faire folke" -- C. Eddy) never really connected with us -- why'd she have to go and make things so complicated? -- but we're ready to give them a second listen after watching her go house on Ozzy's "Momma I'm Comin' Home" and the Cure's "Just Like Heaven." Shit had grown men getting all lumpy and kids stealing their moms pocketbooks to throw change at her and crazy dudes eating popcorn who recognized her from the article the Metro ran, by coincidence, that same day. (We should've whipped out the camera phone for evidence, but . . . we're soft. Sorry. Here's a ) She lucked into a Harvard Square express train so the platform was twice as crowded as usual, but it's been a long time since we saw someone completely transfix 300 random commuters with finger-picked covers. That's fucking entertainment. This is also our passive-aggressive way of trying to get her to record some of that underground shit for us to give away in the ever-popular mpeg-III format. If anyone sees her, tell her to holler.
DOWNLOAD: Lily Holbrook, "Cowboys and Indians" (mp3)