Model and DJ indie turned soon-to-be-blog-beloved indie rocker Lissy Trullie is playing at the Mercury Lounge tonight to mark the release of her debut Self-Taught Learner EP. Because he wants you to know how on top of everything he is, Sasha Frere-Jones writes about her, in a Critic’s Notebook in the current New Yorker.
Here at L Mag HQ, we’ve just spent several minutes trying to decipher what, exactly, SFJ is saying:
On February 20, Lissy Trullie will perform at "Warhol Live," at the de
Young Museum, in San Francisco. Some of the works on show include
portraits of rock stars linked to Warhol, like the Velvet Underground
and Mick Jagger. A former model, Trullie is a visual match for the
event. Her high cheekbones, short blond hair, and bony way with a shirt
put her in position to be the fifteenth or sixteenth Edie Sedgwick, and
she has worked as a d.j. at Beatrice Inn, a spot popular with New
York’s young and beautiful. That’s where the similarities end,
though—Trullie doesn’t behave like one of Warhol’s doomed muses, nor is
her music a low-energy descendant of the Velvet Underground. Trullie
works with another homegrown aesthetic: the short, hard flashes and
brisk pace of the Strokes. She is neither firecracker nor femme
fatale—naming her new EP "Self-Taught Learner" was both honest and
helpful. Trullie builds self-contained pop-rock songs. If she keeps it
up, she should be able to quit her night job fairly soon.
So. The New Yorker may wish to rethink their “let Sasha be Sasha” policy on account of he is making their editorial staff look totally asleep at the switch, what with the spending 119 of his 174 words explaining how Lissy Trullie is sorta like a Warhol star, except that, you know what, she isn’t. Reviewing 101 here: do not spend the majority of your piece introducing — not even addressing, actually introducing — a comparison, and then explaining how it actually doesn’t really work.
In fact the piece contains, in total, one sentence saying what she actually is like. She’s like the Strokes.
Ok, two sentences, if you count “Trullie builds self-contained pop-rock songs.” But, sorry, I’m not going to count that sentence, because: “self-contained pop-rock songs”? Self-contained? When is a pop-rock song not self-contained? You mean self-contained as opposed to, like, Tommy, or what the fuck?
To be fair Lissy Trullie is actually kinda bland, if stylish, and at this point in her career it is indeed pretty difficult to write about her without vamping to fill space, at least a little. And, you know, she does sound like the Strokes, in a sort of surprisingly, affectingly bangs-in-her-eyes non-confrontational way (at least on record). Except for that one song that really sounds like the Cars. That song is good.