All five members of Tilly And The Wall are sprawled on the linoleum floor of the Andrew’s Lane Theatre dressing-room, peering into a lap-top.
“They’ve got wi-fi here – and it’s five bucks an hour back at the hotel – so we figured, why not?” says guitarist Derek Pressnall.

It’s tempting to ascribe such old fashioned thrift to the band’s upbringing in Omaha, Nebraska, capital of America’s snow-belt, and the sort of folksy metropolis Sarah Palin is probably referring to when she talks about the ‘real America’.
“Omaha is a pretty dull place,” frowns singer Kianna Alarid. “You know, it’s got Warren Buffet, the millionaire, and a whole bunch of insurance companies. Not much else.”
Actually that’s not quite true. In addition to being the financial capital of the American heartland, Omaha is home to a buoyant pop industry, of which Tilly And The Wall form no small part.
“We owe it all to Conor Oberst,” Derek resumes. “Before he came and started up Bright Eyes and his Team Love record label, Omaha was a backwater. Conor made us feel it was possible to be in a band. Until then, the idea that we could make a career out of this – it would have seemed ridiculous.”
Not that Tilly made things easy for themselves. In lieu of a drummer, Derek’s tap-dancing sister Jamie serves as the rhythm section.
“We didn’t mean for it to be a gimmick,” she proffers. “We didn’t have a drummer and thought a tap dancer would be a pretty neat replacement. The funny thing is, when people see us live they immediately get it – and it stops being an issue for them.”
Having caught the ear of the bloggarati with their 2005 debut Wild Like Children and its ‘06 follow up Bottom Of Barrels, Tilly And The Wall are making a play for the mainstream with new record, o.
“It’s our sex and death record,” Derek deadpans. “Or at least that’s what we’re telling people. I think it’s a catchy way of describing it, don’t you?”
So will the big time come knocking? Well, they’ve recently received the ultimate accolade for a left-field pop act with an eye on a mass following in the form of an invitation to perform on Sesame Street. How did it feel to follow in the footsteps of REM and Feist?
“It was a huge honour but we had to do it against a green screen,” sighs Kianna. “So we didn’t actually get to go to Sesame Street. Which is a blow, obviously.”
Tilly And The Wall are named after a children’s novel by the Dutch author Leo Lionni. A trusted source (let’s just call him a Mr W. Icki Pedia) tells us that, late in life, he was accused of being involved in a Nazi art heist. This, it seems, is news to the Tilly folk. “No waaay,” gasps Kianna. “That’s just unbelievable.”
She shakes her heard.
“And he wrote such sweet books. I’m, like, speechless.”