The Shills

If you’re looking for it, it’s actually not too hard to find a new band you really dig. Most often, those artists are doing something that resonates with you because of your established tastes. It sounds familiar, it feels comfortable, and maybe there’s even an aspect of the music that’s unique. Much more rare, though, is to come across an act doing something completely different than what you might otherwise find in your music collection and still be affected by it. Such is the case with The Shills, a band that seems to blend so many varied influences as to produce music that cannot be so easily pigeonholed. Fresh off a second win in our Indie Pop channel, they are our latest Artist of the Week.

As the band themselves describe, they take some of the best bits from “Queen to Queens of the Stone Age, Yes to Radiohead, Motown to Metal, Punk to Jazz,” and progress from there. You might be a punk who can’t stand prog, or a jazz snob with little patience for punk, but you might be surprised at how much you appreciate some of the subtleties of previously overlooked musical elements when they’re incorporated into something more broad. And in the end, it’s really about whether or not there are songs.

Case in point, their winning song “Honest Answers,” a soaring melody across a syncopated beat and alternately chugging and arpeggiated guitars. “Nectar Perfect” is indie rock with Top 40 radio-ready vocals which breaks into a classic rock chorus and an unexpected half-time bridge. Find me another band that makes you think simultaneously of Built To Spill and Heart (“Move A Mountain,” “Electric Proving Ground”).

It is no small thing to be able to think about music this way, never mind perform it with such precision and passion. Open your mind and enjoy the music of The Shills. - OurStage

At The Shills’ EP release show this week, an early-20s girl with headband askew saw me scribbling in my notepad and stopped dancing for just long enough to ask, “Are you writing a review?” When I affirmed, she met my eyes and solemnly dictated, “Say they’re the best.” I was caught a bit off-guard by how serious she was with this request, but I think it speaks to the passion of this band’s fan-base – The Shills are a Boston institution. With members of seemingly half of Boston’s local bands present at their show, too, it was clear they are revered not only by the city at large, but also by the folks who make local music matter.
According to my brief chat with the band’s newest addition and red-pant wearer, Ryan Jackson (guitarist), James Zaner (drummer) and Dave Sicilian (bassist) were high school friends who formed a band about eight years ago, and when replacing their original singer found Bryan Murphy (singer/guitarist) to form The Shills. Finding a singer like Bryan on craigslist is like finding a brand new 50” flat screen TV lying on the curb – while the instrumentation is tight and creative across the board, it is Bryan’s distinctive vocals and on-stage charisma that really establish The Shills as one of Boston’s top bands. His “All About My Vagina” tee doesn’t hurt his on-stage persona, either.
If there’s a scale that exists between The Temper Trap and At The Drive-In, the Shills probably fall somewhere on it. Progressive, soulful, anthemic rock, The Shills balance tender rock ballads with more standard rock-induced wailing, tussling with tempo and complicated guitar picking. They began their set with their already-published material, with songs like “That’s Why We Dream,” whose guitar riff reminded me a lot of Green Day’s “Do You Know Your Enemy,” a finger slide and handclaps on “Oh This Devilish Place,” and more leaden bass in “Bending Knee” and “C’mere Boy.”
When they moved into the new EP material, though, that was when the show especially came together for me. “Honest Answers” made especially good use of vocal harmonies, but didn’t shy away from more intense between-vocal spasms. They kept it sensitive with “Nectar Perfect,” but the crowd went the craziest when they broke out “Object Through Object.” With the floor covered in white-boy bounce-dancing, the frenetic guitar and storytelling vocals coated turbulent drums and bass, cutting out every so often to let the song breathe and make the vocals even more salient. They snuck in an older funk-rock track, “Thing,” before rounding out their EP portion of the set with “Move a Mountain.” This was a great choice to end on, since it started with an innocent drum march in Proclaimers’-esque cadence, but slow-built to an epic show finale. With ample applause, The Shills came out for a one-song encore, “For All That Moves,” and with poppy guitar, jovial beat, and compelling vocal, it was a resounding close to the night.
Keep Your Hands Busy: Vol 1 is the fourth and latest album by The Shills, and Bryan assured us on stage that this means a Volume 2 is on its way. Though only a four-song EP, the Volume 1 mini-production leaves a big imprint – I’m already anxiously awaiting the sequel! - They Will Rock You

This long-running project fronted by the indispensable Bryan Murphy has had a busy month putting on blow-out album release parties up and down the coast for their newest EP, “Keep Your Hands Busy Vol. 1” (the Boston edition went down this past Wednesday night at Brighton Music Hall). The record, the first half of a promised two-part collection, lays out a tense game plan of turn-on-a-dime-guitars and acrobatic vocal harmonies — like the Cars following a malfunctioning GPS. Lead-off single “Honest Answers” attempts an unholy mix of soul-fired keyboards and emo’d-out guitars before questing into wide-open mindscapes. Murphy’s a fan of screeds of self-doubt and approaches the subject like a sculptor. In this song alone, amongst a flurry of mood swings and gently crooned evaluations (“Have I been evil? Have I been heartless? I can’t tell”), we get a few different melodies popping up over several different backdrops, cleverly throwing different light on them each time. “Move a Mountain” chugs like the riff from Heart's “Barracuda” under another soaring vocal that cements Murphy’s chillingly spot-on voice as one of the most dependable rock weapons in Boston right now. (Out now) - The Boston Globe

In its original context, a "shill" was a member of a carnival troupe who feigned audience participation with the hopes of generating excitement and interest in an attraction. The practice was obviously frowned upon for its intent to mislead and delude, but nevertheless persisted and evolved over the years to include auctions, corporate sales, gambling operations and, more recently, internet scams. With such a negative history attached to the practice, I was a bit puzzled upon discovering a group of local Boston musicians who adopted the word as the name of their band. The Shills, a four-piece rock band currently comprised of vocalist/guitarist Bryan Murphy, guitarist Ryan Jackson, bassist Dave Sicilian, and drummer James Zaner, have proudly emblazoned the word on their work since their formation in 2004. And while it may seem questionable for a performance act to associate itself with such a deceptive practice, The Shills have cleverly re-appropriated this term to mean something entirely different from its historical associations. The Shills don't need to plant shills to bolster audience excitement; they're planting themselves on stage and bolstering audience excitement on their own. There's nothing deceptive or underhanded about it. In fact, the band's dynamic live performances, genuine musicianship, and hard work over the past nine years is likely what landed them an opportunity to record their most recent EP, "Keep Your Hands Busy: Volume 1," with producer Scott Riebling (Fall Out Boy, Cobra Starship, We The Kings).


The Shills infuse their self-described pop/rock foundation with hints of progressive rock and, at times, ethereal soundscapes, thanks to the versatility of each member's musicianship. Lead singer and guitarist Bryan Murphy's voice is an undeniably pure exercise in balance and versatility--at once suited for stadium sized anthems and intimate admissions, straightforward pop and forays into progressive rock, it reminds me of the late (and wonderful) Jeff Buckley. Luckily, Murphy has a band behind him with an equally matched level of talent and precision to support him. Guitarist Ryan Jackson (who replaced former guitarist Eric Ryrie late last year), brings his distinct blend of classic rock, jazz, and progressive rock licks to the band, while drummer James Zaner and bassist Dave Sicilian demonstrate immense technical and creative ability on their respective instruments. Ultimately, though, it is the seamless combination of these members that make The Shills so impressive. In an era of bands thrown together haphazardly--with an equally haphazard DIY aesthetic--The Shills remind me what a band can accomplish with hard work, time, and natural ability. Check out the single, "Honest Answers" below, and be sure to get tickets to their EP release show at Brighton Music Hall this coming Wednesday at 9 PM. - Randumink

Youth is both the blessing and the curse of Boston's music landscape. It's the young spirits that keep our scene so buoyant, so greatly supported, and so driven by change. But with unpredictable student schedules, insufficient budgets, and a constant shuffling of personnel — not to mention those who vacate the city after graduation — it seems almost unthinkable for bands to last more than a few years here.
One exception to this curse has been the Shills. The modest Boston-based quartet have been a staple of the local scene for almost eight years, releasing two full-length albums, an EP, and on May 2, the first half of their new two-part EP, Keep Your Hands Busy. Guitarist and vocalist Bryan Murphy is quick to assure there are few changes, musically, on the Shills' latest effort, which features the band's trademark progressive indie-rock intricacies and the captivating voice of its frontman.
Murphy, who joined the Shills back in 2004 when the other three members— Eric Ryrie, Dave Sicilian, and James Zaner — were playing under the name Gallery, wanted Keep Your Hands Busy to stick close to the familiar. "We basically changed nothing in the creative process," says Murphy. "Writing music still involves our typical rock approach of jamming and drinking whiskey."
But change is inevitable, and after years of adhering to the same lineup, the Shills now see themselves a bit different from where they started. Guitarist Ryrie departed late last year to join This Car Up's Paul Sentz in the launch of their latest project, Slowdim. Replacing Ryrie was Ryan Jackson, formerly of Ryan Jackson Troika. And the changes weren't just limited to personnel. For the first time, the Shills decided not to self-record their new material, and instead sought out Letters to Cleo bassist Scott Riebling, who runs a studio in Raynham. Riebling helped the Shills sharpen their driving rock sound and focus purely on the creative aspects of recording.
Despite being based in a college town, Murphy sees the Shills' age and experience as an advantage, specifically in the trial-and-error process of defining their sound on the new EP. In the past they have tried the straightforward, they have tried the experimental, and now they look to find a happy medium. "I've always thought of the Shills as a band that makes complicated music with complicated structures," says Murphy, "but it's uncool to have complicated music."
With this realization, Murphy and the band have made it their prerogative to pursue the music they enjoy writing but translate it into a more palatable language. "Our goal basically is to sell sophisticated music to people who would rather not be confused," he says.
This complex sound is something that has evolved with the band since their roots. Each member is trained and seasoned, with Murphy getting his start in high school primarily as a horn player. At an early age, Murphy was drawn to music with a different perspective. He admired the angst of the Kinks and the abnormal structures of Frank Zappa, and he admits his favorite band in high school was Mr. Bungle. "I liked music that pissed people off," he says.
As a creative unit, the Shills draw in a number of influences, but their mission has remained more or less the same in their eight-year lifespan. They are aware of their sound and push each other to build on it. "Knowing that I have the opportunity to play with these guys that I have known for so long is comforting," says Murphy.
In a scene in which many bands come and go before making it out of their infancy, the Shills have shown patience and persistence. "There seems to be a four-year turnover for bands in Boston," says Murphy. "I don't really understand why bands take on so many projects."
THE SHILLS + YOU CAN BE A WESLEY + DIRTY DISHES + ART DECADE | Brighton Music Hall, 158 Brighton Ave, Allston | May 2 @ 8pm | 18+ | $10 | 617.779.0140 or brightonmusichall.com 
- The Boston Phoenix

This world has no place for me. No one understands. The things I feel and see have no place in the mainstream narrative. The lives of my peers seem boring and torturous. I must escape this town.
If you have ever entertained these thoughts, you may have a history of personality disorder. If you have entertained these thoughts and are in the 97th percentile for math scores, you are probably in a prog rock band. Alienated? Perhaps: maybe you have to be in order to bear being so unfashionable.

The scene's developed such a knee jerk reaction against one believing in oneself, the slightest immodesty must be hard won. The Shills have fought that fight over seven and a half years: they were one of the first bands I saw when I moved to Boston, opening a weeknight at the Mid East. They were great then. They're better now, taut, comfortable, and rich with group identity: more immodest than ever. They flaunt the kind of chops and ingenuity that leave most bands pleading for mercy. Couldn't they try to hide it a little, or at least draft a written apology?

Of all the places to see them, closing a fashion show at Brighton Music Hall was unseemly bravado. While the band was setting up in their jeans and t-shirts and Babbitt haircuts, an emaciated model sashayed past the stage, buffeting herself with an oversized feather fan. On stage the band was easy, bantering with the crowd, singer/guitarist Bryan Murphy boozing in a way more associated with George Thorogood than Yes.

Opening number “Honest Answers” put their three strengths on the table at once: iridescent texture, stuttering odd-time riffs, and sharp melodic sense. Guitarist and new install Ryan Jackson's lines spiraled around the chords while Bryan's guitar spat comebacks, until they met each other in the bridge's raucous jaunt. In the lyrics rang a calm reflectiveness South of guilt, awaiting a judgment which can and will change so little: “One's honest answers are far more precious to me than any form of infatuation … Why are they so scared?” The singer doesn't plead, but wonders about future release. “I don't feel evil, then maybe I could never tell.”

The first and incredibly strong half of the show continued building on their core aesthetics, culminating in “Human Condition” and “Most Minds”. In the former, against thick stabs evoking Jeff Buckley's Sketches or Queen's “Sweet Lady”, Bryan has the pretense of owning his state, but keeps backtracking on even the possibility of change. “I keep hearing everybody's the same … is that true? Human condition all caught up in the brain.” You get from the tone that if everybody really is the same, he's never experienced it. In the awe-striking mid-piece “Most Minds”, drummer James Zaner and bassist Dave Sicilian put down the first nearly-straight groove of the evening, resembling Radiohead's “Weird Fishes”, its propulsive beat blanketed in ethereal centerless chords, a stair climbing to nothing. Even when the big riff finally barrels into the room, the song becomes more claustrophobic instead of gaining the promised release.

The band stretched out more in the set's second half, trying on swing for a spell in the jagged pop of “Bended Knees”, another song about futile apology. Then there was the deadpan auto-wah blues of “Thing”, making a joke at the expense of the profundity of everything else. “This song is about a thing … have you ever lost something, like, forgot where you put it?” poked Bryan at the crowd. I couldn't believe that it didn't conclude with it being in their hands all along, but the thing never turns up - like most of the rest of their repertoire, it stalwartly resists resolution. The Shills are really anything but bluesy, but maybe that's the balls behind the joke. We lost our sense of brainy angularity and existential dread! Help!

The Shills weren't without a closing feat, and after being led through such tortuous constructions, we were rewarded with “Move a Mountain”, a new tune and the warmest number o - Allston Pudding

It's a rainy Wednesday night when I arrive at All Asia on Mass Ave. in Cambridge to meet the Shills. Bryan Murphy, lead singer and guitarist of the Boston band, is on stage moving efficiently in faded black jeans, a black waffle shirt and zip-up sweatshirt. He's the seven-years-running open mic host.

Eric Ryrie (guitar), James Zaner (drums) and David Sicilian (bass) arrive. Murphy finishes on stage and comes over to greet his bandmates. He checks the time on his iPhone. It's just after 9 p.m. "The list is so short tonight," he says. The guys order beers. We head where it's a little quieter for a chat about the Shills, down to the dimly lit, makeshift living room in the basement. We talk about them putting their necks on the line in returning to the nearly forgotten concept album with their last record, Ganymede, upcoming plans and their take on Lady Gaga. "Can she not be in this article?" Murphy pleads (obviously to no avail). "She is already everywhere!"

Ryrie sits in an old armchair in dark skinny jeans, a black down vest from Target ("I have a personal stylist," he jokes), a brown fleece sweatshirt and blue New Balance sneakers. His dark hair is a little shaggy and he has a thin beard. On his wrist is an abandoned Halloween costume piece; a gold and diamond watch you'd swear wasn't plastic. Sicilian takes the middle seat on the futon, keeping his tan wool coat on and mostly buttoned. Zaner - in jeans, a plaid zip-up hoodie and with dark hair - is the youngest member at 25 and finds a seat on the floor.

Ryrie, Sicilian and Zaner started off in a band with a female singer under the name Gallery. Ryrie and Sicilian had been playing together since second grade soccer; music started in middle school. Zaner and Ryrie met at a WBCN high school battle of the bands where Ryrie and Sicilian's band came in second place ("The first time we ever had a packed house screaming for us," Ryrie remembers). When Gallery wasn't working, their vocalist left and through Craigslist the guys found Murphy. That was 2004. Since then, the band has put out three records: The Shills, Ganymede and an EP, Push.

The Shills sound is something like progressive pop rock, "a mix of modern rock and pop sounds/feels/instrumentation - an intentional effort to be relevant and not follow trends in those worlds," Murphy explains. Sometimes it comes off as a guitar riff that is more hard edge and almost metal. Here, Murphy will sing in falsetto or scream to match that instrumental intensity. Then sometimes the focus is on a bass line and groove that is more dance oriented. And there are a few '70s straight rockers as well. Overall, the Shills are melodic and very vocal driven.

Murphy was a great fit for the band. He studied composition and jazz trumpet (heard on the records) at the Eastman School of Music. Sicilian and Zaner graduated with audio engineering and music production degrees from Berklee. Ryrie has no formal training aside from pointers from his father, but who can tell? With such a fluid sound it's almost unbelievable these guys haven't caught a real break yet.

"Our goal is to make music that's challenging to the ear without the audience knowing it's happening; to be ourselves and grow," Murphy says. "There's a safeness to other bands that we can't even think about. We had to figure out who we were so we could then go explore."

And that they did. Ganymede is a concept album built with pure and thorough attention to detail about a misanthropic guy who crashes his boat on an island and kills himself accidentally. Each song is a nod to what's to come next. It's a decided detour from the trend of the single that marks today's music scene, as songs on Ganymede are vague and almost lost (deserted might be the proper word here-see the album cover) when listened to out of sequence, though they each certainly stand on their own musically.

"Ganymede is the floral arrangement on top of the first record (The Shills, 2007), our foundation," says Ryrie. "Our first album was the basement of the Shills sound and Ganymede is like the grown-up version of what we did on that album." "The most difficult musical thing I've ever done is to piece this together," Murphy says of the album. "We went out on a limb and surprised ourselves." ?The album was recorded at Blue Jay, where Zaner is a sound engineer, one to two songs at a time. Then they'd spend one or two weeks, or even a month after focusing on each track. Many of the songs on Ganymede came from pieces of songs not used on The Shills. Last November, the band toured from Boston to Nashville, where they played two shows to healthy crowds of friends and a respectable number of new fans. But, as they know, they need to break out beyond Boston and New York City, their Northeast comfort zone for the last six years, if living off their art is to become a reality.

In 2010, the Shills aim to play 6 to 10 cities regularly. They just finished a month-long residency in January at O'Brien - Performer Magazine

The Shills are fast carving their niche in the Boston area scene with their music, songs that are simultaneously catchy, challenging and experimental in sound and concept. With their second full-length album Ganymede, a conceptual album about a misanthrope who is shipwrecked on an island and forced to confront himself, The Shills continue to hone their talents and distinct style as they assert themselves as a staple of the Boston scene. Recently, Bryan, Eric, Dave and James were kind enough to answer some questions for the Deli.

Deli: Could you give our readers a brief biography of the band? How you got together, what your musical and non-musical inspirations are, how you characterize your sound and style, etc.?

Eric: James, Dave & myself were in a previously existing band called Gallery. We fired our singer and were auditioning new ones when we came across Bryan. We all have different and similar musical influences, which is a great combination. The stuff we all like gives us a common ground to work from and then we can all bring in our own different influences and jumble it all together to create a new overall sound. It's never been easy for us to describe our sound but it's something like progressive pop/rock. We like to blend pop melodies and song structures with musically complex ideas and rhythms. The idea being that anyone can identify with sound right off the bat but there's a lot of subtle complexities to keep it interesting. Basically we want my little sister and our music nerd friends to all dig it. - The Deli - NYC

The name "The Shills": reminds me I made a mistake yesterday. “No way,” I thought about the women on The Pill posters, “There aren’t people that look like they hang out at rock clubs with all the rest of us non-models.” And you know what they say happens when you assume stuff - you get told. Yes, these hyper-attractive women frequent the place and they don’t just exist in the world of poster modeling. Now like a good pill will, The Shills make everything burn a little brighter for a while. They'll be doing this tonight at the hallowed ground of Church of Boston. I can’t speak to their posters or anything, but rest assured, good looking people will be there and good sounding people as well. The Shills are a dapper bunch. They’re not Pill-poster models, but who is?

The Shills immediately distance themselves from the casual, the average and the pedestrian with their own peculiar sound and knack for upturned, off-speed melodies. The principle melody takes place largely in what we recognize as a “verse.” Or maybe it’s just a regular chorus. This song seems to follow a linear path through its time. In reality, it is a larger pattern. Or maybe not. We hear familiar strains throughout the song, but our musical compass spins as if in the Bermuda Triangle. Is it a verse? A chorus? An interlude? Is the song over? What's going on here?

The structure of this song seems to be twisted a few turns away from the way we usually expect things to go. There’s nothing crazy experimental going on here - this song is ultra catchy and melodic, it’s just a guessing game as to which part of the song we’re in. If you care to know that sort of thing, that is. The part with the quarter note stabs of chords from the guitar seems like a pre-chorus, yet it is followed by an instrumental interlude and then we’re back in the initial “verse” section again.

Instead of fumbling at the roadmap, we instead sit back and allow ourselves to enjoy this whole “Chasing The Aftermath” experience. There are tastes of new wave. A dynamic power range that stops itself and starts up again. The energy in “...Aftermath” is palpable and it keeps this song running on a high speed conveyor belt, all the way through your ears and into the center of your brain where musical hooks take hold. The Shills have a sound that is tight, bright and outta sight with “Chasing The Aftermath” that is like a pleasant shot of green tea infused with something both tasty and exciting. The shot leaves you vibrating a bit, but it’s a pleasant “let’s go do something!” zappy feeling. I suggest more tea. Extra Shills. - Boston Band Crush

art angular prog, part Weezer, The Shills have been a live treasure since 2004, with jolting precision and frantic tunes. On the heels of their second full-length, Ganymede, we found singer Bryan Murphy to chat with us.



WHAT EXACTLY ARE YOU SHILLING?

I’m an enormous music nerd and I was sick of playing nerd music for 10 people, when I could be playing nerd music masquerading as catchy rock for, like, 200 people. Thus, The Shills.



YOUR GUITAR PLAYER ERIC’S "CURE" FOR MY HICCUPS WAS SLAPPING ME IN THE FACE. WHAT’S HIS DEAL?

He has to live up to our other guitarist, Dave, who knows everything, and he’s got a little jealousy worked up after 10 years of bro-ness. He tries, but alas, is devoid of tact and grace.



WHAT MAKES YOUR NEW DISC BETTER THAN YOUR LAST?

It’s the most conglomerate thing we have yet recorded. It has crazy themes, shifting genres and it flows better than our other discs. We all got to know who we really were in the studio on this one, and it’s given us new goals and enthusiasm.



IS MYSPACE GOING DOWN THE TUBES FOR BANDS? A LOT OF BANDS ARE BITCHING.

I don’t think so, no. I think people are SUPER lonely these days and Facebook is great for the lonely. As you all know when you get that sad friend request from some dingbat you haven’t seen since middle school.



DID YOU GUYS CATCH BANG CAMARO ON CONAN?

I didn’t, but I don’t watch much TV other than the Food Network, cartoons and sports news. Twenty guys onstage is pretty fucking badass though. We’re going for 12 this month. We’ll be as cool as them soon.



IMPOSSIBLE.



FOR MORE FROM THE SHILLS, HEAD TO WEEKLYDIG.COM - DigBoston

So bursting with goodness and surprises was the Shills’ 2007 homonymous full-length, it was hard to imagine how the band might build on their already sprawling array of sounds. Here’s our answer: on their newest, Ganymede, which is set to drop this Friday at the Middle East, the band go conceptual. It’s a song cycle that tells the story of a shipwrecked misanthrope who drives himself batty for lack of anyone to hate on. As attested by “Janus” here, the band adopt a looser, lusher approach that’s perfect for their nuanced pop. Bryan Murphy’s lithe falsetto plays nicely with a puffing chorus of horns, clever tangles of guitar, and all sorts of subtle, lilting harmonies. Smart stuff. Grab “Janus” below and catch them live on January 30 at the Middle East along with Kid:Nap:Kin, Supervolcano, and Justin Shorey. - The Phoenix - Boston