Local Review: Gilded Lillies – UP IN ARMS

Gilded Lillies
UP IN ARMS
Self-Released
Street: 11.12
Gilded Lillies = Haley Heynderickx + Trophy Wife / Winona Ryder in Girl, Interrupted 

To “gild the lilies” is to add something unnecessary to what is already beautiful. Every time I hear “Gilded Lily” by Cults and it repeats the lyrics “haven’t I given enough,” it cuts me to my core. However, I’m also reminded of scrolling through some of the 100,000 TikTok videos using said song. I feel cautioned about the ever-growing void of the digital metainterface amongst us. In a blur of micro-trends and internet fads that permeate our brains and overtake our psyches, all we can ever want is more—more opulence, more sparkle, more abundance, more, more, more. And it’s not just what we own, it’s us. We want smoother skin, shinier teeth, thicker hair, thinner bodies. Will we ever grow peaceful with ourselves?

There is a taste of poison associated with femininity, from the biblical figures of Lilith and Delilah to Gone Girl’s Amy Dunne. There’s a danger and a thrill, a bit of irony and a lot of sex appeal. In reality, feminine energy is a soft surf-rock ballad played off of an iPhone; it’s lighting the incense and opening the curtains in the morning. That is exactly what Gilded Lillies’ album UP IN ARMS was made for. For all the lace, leather and denim angels, for all ladies wearing red wine-stained blouses. As her debut album, this is a strong introduction into Macy Weeks’ creative visions of how to portray personal evolution, sensitivity and female rage. 

In the first song of the project, “Infidel,” we are fed the lines “Friends don’t kiss and tell / Love’s not made at motels / Switch back to men / Hurt me like hell” by Weeks’ belting voice. Throughout the piece, there is a challenge against the proactive archetype of womanhood portrayed in her song. Next, we are given “Evergreen,” a track made of equal parts angst and cool attitude. The fuzzy guitar, tambourine and triangle used in the foreground create an air fit for a cowboy sleeping with his hat covering his eyes. During the third track, “Daydream,” Weeks’ voice refuses to relent. Smooth as glass and deep as the sea, she delivers “It’s hard to think that once was just a daydream / I wake up and call it my everyday.” This is a feeling that I can heavily relate to. It’s a mix of overwhelming gratitude and bruised pride only felt when reflecting on how much has changed. 

Like the current pulling you in deeper, “Flood” surrounds your senses with a slower, darker reverb. One of my personal favorites, the track sounds like it’d be played during the scene of a 2007 coming-of-age film when the main character has messed up and is reflecting on their choices. Sweet and simple, “Teeth Upon This” has this continuous crescendo embedded throughout that makes it all the more biting. The layered vocals call attention to Weeks’ dynamic talent and unbelievable performance. With a bit more of a folk influence, “Whiplash” delivers exactly what it performs. The soft strumming of the guitar is in deep contrast to the instrumental heard through the rest of the album. The lyrics “I change like seasons when it came to you,” stand out, as the song itself sounds like the time in between fall and winter. 

When looking at the album cover, I feel the same uncanny faux nostalgia that I get when I watch The Love Witch. Contemporary media that mimics a retro style always wins my heart. Not only is it photographed beautifully and looks like it came straight out of the nineties, there is a message embedded into the visual. The figure in the image is playing cat’s cradle with a bit of string. This is a detail that reminds me of my own primary schoolyard days when I would carry a loop of yarn with me everywhere I’d go. The symbol is reminiscent of the intricacy of emotion, as well as forewarning of the apathy of humanity, much like Kurt Vonnegut’s novel. It’s no accident that the figure on the album cover has their arms raised up to the sky, as if wishing for mercy. –Marzia Thomas

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