The Tiger Lillies, The Brothel To The Cemetery
A rogue's gallery of murdrers and thieves
The sun never shines in a Tiger Lillies song. Never. And the twisted creatures who scurry furtively through its lyrics — murderers, rapists, pederasts — are not running toward the light. The Tiger Lillies have been elaborating their strange art since 1989. Martyn Jacques, the leader, songwriter and accordionist, sings every song in a keening, castrato-esque falsetto. Adrian Stout, who plays upright bass with exceptional fluidity, also weighs in from time to time on musical saw. And hulking percussionist Adrian Huge, who sits behind (or looms over) a minimalist kit with cymbals the size of pie plates and a bass drum resembling a large hat box, is also likely to clatter forth on an ancillary array of odd metallic objects that includes several kinds of kitchenware. It would be the tinniest of reviewer clichès to say that I've never heard anything like this English trio, but, well, consider it said, anyway.