Editor’s Note Lillian King is a singer-songwriter based in Chicago, IL. On October 24th, she released her debut album In Your Long Shadow, via Pronounced Kroog (the label from Spencer Krug of Wolf Parade, Sunset Rubdown, and Moonface).
Produced by Jack Henry (Friko, Free Range), the album, according to a press release, “leans into slow-burning indie, folk rock, and atmospheric Americana. Fans of Sharon Van Etten, Big Thief, Rosali, and Mazzy Star will find a lot to love here.”
Below are a few songs that do a fantastic job of introducing Lillian’s superb talent as a singer and songwriter:
Below is a description of the lyrical themes via press release:
“Written in the aftermath of her father’s passing, the record is a clear-eyed reflection on grief, family, and the fleeting weight of ordinary days. Across ten songs, Lillian weaves together meditations on quiet walks, old rivers, and the strange comfort of repetition, delivered with a voice that’s as strikingly soulful as it is understated.
The album is deeply personal, but it’s Lillian’s ability to make the personal universal that makes these songs linger. A decade of honing her craft, from basement shows in Montreal to solo sets across the U.S. and Canada, has shaped her songwriting into something remarkably grounded. This record is the culmination of those years, but also a starting point for a career that’s clearly on the cusp of wider recognition.”
King teamed up with Krug and Pronounced Kroog after a chance tour pairing in 2024. According to the press release, “Known for pushing the boundaries of indie music through Wolf Parade and Sunset Rubdown, Krug’s support brings both credibility and curiosity to In Your Long Shadow. Yet it’s Lillian’s own voice and vision that define the record, crafted with Robert Salazar’s rhythmic ease, Nick DePrey’s atmospheric keys, and Jack Henry’s warm, open production.”
Below, King pens an exclusive essay for SWT about about her early influences and the importance of embracing your inner teen.
I found the music that shaped me exactly the way you’re supposed to––while sitting in the backseat of a cool senior girl’s car on my first day of high school. Arcade Fire’s “Wake Up” blared through the speakers. It was all happening! I was entering the world!
I was an introspective teen, but more thoughtful than angsty. Music became a giant compass directing me towards adulthood. It expanded my world, and it made me excited to get out there. Arcade Fire was the catalyst. Funeral sounded the way I felt, and Neon Bible was a grounding force teaching me that there’s beauty in bumming out. I was fifteen when The Suburbs came out. If there was ever an album made for a self-actualizing fifteen year old girl, it’s The Suburbs.
In high school, I dabbled with bouts of “nobody understands me!”, which I think is good for the soul. Once you push past the melodrama, you become more self-sustaining. Plus it feels cool! You don’t grow up scrolling past billions of Tumblr posts dedicated to Girl, Interrupted to not think being misunderstood is awesome.
The trick to turning teenage ennui into something productive is having it push you out of the house. So when I was bumming out, I went to shows alone. I sang my teen heart out at Of Montreal, Father John Misty, St. Vincent, Bon Iver, and Foxygen shows.
The more I dove into the greater indie rock catalog, the more I fixated on Montreal. I feel very bashful about how crazy about Arcade Fire I was then…. I loved them a lot. I obsessed over their origin story, and how they recorded Neon Bible in a church in the Montreal exurbs, and played early shows at some mystical bar called Casa Del Popolo in the Mile End. I needed to see these places! So when I was sixteen, my dad took me there. We rented a car to visit the Arcade Fire church (see incredibly earnest photo below), and drank cappuccinos in Casa. We also got really into another incredible Montreal band––Wolf Parade.
Listening to Wolf Parade with my dad blasted my obsession with Montreal into the stratosphere. When it was time to go to college, I went to McGill University in beautiful downtown Montreal.
It’s not hard to trace the throughline of the person I am now to my first day of high school and that cassette of “Wake Up.” If I hadn’t let music into my bones, I probably wouldn’t have wound up in Montreal. I probably wouldn’t have played a show at Casa Del Popolo years after my pilgrimage to it. And if my dad hadn’t started playing Wolf Parade in the car every morning, sparking my deep love of Spencer Krug’s catalog, I probably wouldn’t be releasing my debut album on Spencer Krug’s record label. It makes me nauseous to think about all the dominoes of my life falling into place (what if they hadn’t!!!), but boy am I grateful.
Embrace your inner teen, have ennui, and let your kids go to shows by themselves.
Lillian King
Contributor
Lillian King is a singer-songwriter based in Chicago, Illinois
