by Giliann Karon (@lethalrejection)
A near-constant touring schedule and devastating losses shaped Lily Seabird’s breakthrough album, Alas,. Now firmly anchored by a strong community of local Burlington musicians and a tight circle of friends, her third album, Trash Mountain is a testament to her growth and self-assurance. Her sentimental folk sensibilities take on new forms. Sparse, jangly vocals replace wailing instrumental breaks.
“Trash Mountain” is what Seabird calls her house, which sits atop a decommissioned landfill. The pink complex hosts shows and her friends have passed it down for nearly the last decade. Here, Seabird has found stability and belonging, allowing herself to evolve without sacrificing her integrity. Across nine intimate tracks, she reflects on personal and professional transitions while remaining resilient and optimistic.
Lily Seabird by Evan Loignon
GILIANN KARON: What do you think is so special about the Burlington music scene?
LILY SEABIRD: There’s something special about Vermont in general, but Burlington has an especially high concentration of artists. It’s very community oriented and it’s always been like this – people making music to connect with others and express themselves.
There’s a long history of jam bands in Burlington, too. Phish is from here. There aren’t as many jam bands from Burlington as there used to be, and a lot of older heads think it’s cool to see people making other kinds of music.
GK: You've said that in the past you've used songwriting to process disruptions and grief, but now you kind of use it as a neutral outlet. How did that switch come to be?
LS: I’ve been trying to practice writing more. In the past, I’d only write during times of crisis. Now, trying to write all the time makes for different results and different songs.
I think the switch happened when I changed my perspective. It still doesn’t feel like a job, but over the past couple of years, I haven't had a steady job besides playing in bands or touring my own music. When you're constantly playing, of course you’re going to write more. I wanted to get better at writing about other things and writing in different moments and moods.
GK: Trash Mountain is sparse compared to the instrumental breaks on Alas,. How did you decide what elements to keep and what to remove?
LS: When I was writing Alas in 2021, I was always playing with a band, so it was a product of my lineup. We jammed a bunch when I played “Waste” for the first time. We were in my friend Benny Yurko’s studio in Burlington, which was the first time I had the resources to make something crazy.
I wasn’t planning on putting a record out at the time, so we recorded a few songs and kept tweaking them. This went on for about a year. When you spend so much time writing, it’s easy to keep adding things to each song.
I’m a strong believer in never making the same record twice. I wanted to write Trash Mountain differently. I wrote all the songs and recorded the demos in my apartment over a short period of time. Once I recorded the demos, I sent them to my friend Kevin [Copeland], who produced this record.
The energy was there in the first couple of takes, even from the people who had only played the songs a few times. I don’t know if that’s why Trash Mountain is so stripped down. It’s more about how I felt at the time of writing.
That's not to say my next album isn't going to have a full band or rock out. Artists often feel pressured to subscribe to some sort of description, but I don’t want to do that. Even on this record, there’s still some blown-out moments. I’m not done rocking out.
GK: I'm not a musician, so maybe I'm talking out my ass, but placing arbitrary guardrails on what genre you want to fit into probably feels more constricting than liberating.
LS: Totally. Ween is one of my favorite bands *points to framed Ween poster in background* and each of their records is different from the last. They do whatever they want, which I find really inspiring.
Living in Burlington also helps because I think if I lived in New York or Chicago or LA, I’d feel pressured to fit into a certain scene. Maybe that’s a narrative I made up, but it’s so chill here. I can afford to make music and work as a barista a few days a week.
GK: How does your background in environmental organizing inform your work as a musician?
LS: The grind of organizing is similar to planning DIY tours. I used to organize canvassing where people would knock doors all over the state. Young people on bikes, real people-powered shit. It’s just as scrappy as booking shows and figuring out where my band is going to sleep. Organizing and music are both about meeting people and finding the cheapest way to get things done.
When I was an organizer, I’d give something my all without knowing if we’d succeed, plus we didn’t see any monetary returns. Being an artist is a lot like that.
With my environmental work, we had goals, like passing a ban on plastic straws. When it fails, you start again. The difference with music is that I don’t have any expectations. I’d be perfectly happy staying on this trajectory. I still can’t believe I get to talk to you, or get to talk to anybody about making music. Connecting with people is enough for me.
GK: What song on Trash Mountain was the hardest to write?
LS: The energy from my songwriting comes from the ether. I can’t imagine a song being difficult to write because it happens so naturally.
GK: What song is the most fun to perform live?
LS: “Arrow” is the most fun. My friend Noah [Lenker] made a super dope psychedelic music video for it. I like playing that song because it can have so many different dynamics depending on the band’s formation. Some of the touring is with a new band, which sounds bigger because there’s a piano and sometimes two guitars. After a headlining tour, we’re supporting my friends in Florry. Their bassist and drummer will be playing with us.
“How far away” is a soft piano ballad. I’m playing two shows this weekend as a trio with guitar and bass, which I haven’t done in a while. We’re trying to make it really loud and heavy. I made the record last June, but it’s always evolving. It might not sound the same as the record, but it’s that part of the fun of live music? I’m excited to play a lot of these in different ways. They can all be loud if they need to be.
*Lily pulls out a Trash Mountain record* I have it right here! We took that photo in my yard.
GK: Who are your mentors?
LS: Throughout making music as a young person, my friend Benny Yurko, who made my last record, has always been a guiding light. He’s had a long music career and has always lived in Burlington. He played in Grace Potter & The Nocturnals for about 20 years. He has a studio here and knows so much about music.
He got me on the road for the first time and introduced me to Liz Cooper, who I played bass with on my first US tour. Because of him, I started believing I could make music as something more than a hobby.
There’s also a woman, Peg Tassey, who also lives in Burlington. I used to play in her band. She’s in her late 60s and has been in bands her whole life. Total force of rock and roll. Liz Cooper and Francesca Blanchard are my big sisters of music.
My manager, Mike, is more of my friend. He’s my roommate/best friend’s boyfriend’s older brother. When I started writing Trash Mountain and knew I didn’t want it to sound like Alas, he was super excited about my demos.
I have dedication to my friends Ecca, Jackie, and Grace, plus my partner, Rick. I show them all the songs I write and ask for advice. Those are my people and I’m so grateful for them.
Trash Mountain is out now on Lame-O Records. Follow Lily Seabird on Instagram.