When a song sounds simultaneously cutting edge and here and now, and retro-vibed and steeped in the classic sounds from a pervious era, you know that a lot of thought has gone into it. Repackaging and re-selling the past to a newer, younger audience has always been a common theme in music, it is the whole reason for the observed thirty-year cycle of sonic fashion. But Lay Low is more than just adding a bit of spit and polish to past glories. Much more.
It is a balancing act and a fine one at that, one that sees Lily Frost walking a delicate line between mod chic and modern cool, the energy of 60’s girl doo-wop bands and the sass of modern indie-pop, between the resonant guitars of early rock and roll and the sultry moves of the contemporary dance floor. And better than that, she not only navigates along such a trajectory, she manages to fit such seemingly disparate styles together in a wonderfully harmonious fashion, like someone pulling a sonic zipper to make opposing musical surfaces mesh in her wake as she passes.
At this point I would normally say something like, “How cool is that?” but there is nothing uncool about this fine song and the artist behind it, so why bother with such formalities?