One Wednesday night last March, the basement of the First Unitarian Church — Philadelphia's decidedly no-frills "venue" — was packed to the hilt with a couple hundred fans of Omaha quintet Tilly and the Wall. Gear had been set up, mikes checked, set lists taped to the floor, towels and bottled water placed next to each microphone, and dozens of balloons sent into the chattering crowd. The band was about to arrive. And there, quite conspicuous toward the back of the stage, sat a drum kit. Next to me, two sweaty punk-rock girls dressed like Minnie Pearl discussed this... More >>>