A ladybug on a warm leaf, a lazy dog asleep on a diving board, a thirsty LA scene wrapped in a tequila duvet. Tim Hill’s songs stall you in a cul-de-sac of forever summer, offering all shades of sonic blue, blurred Mexican mirages and the heavy velvet of a closing night.
Los Angeles born. Whittier grown. He translates what he knows; a hometown where the Dodgers rule the roost, time carved out for slow endeavors is paramount, and coffee is the blueprint for the day.
He seasoned his musical skillet as a keyboardist touring with artists such as Nick Waterhouse, Curtis Harding and the Allah Las. In 2018, he released a 45 entitled “Paris, Texas,” b/w a cover of Warren Zevon’s “Steady Rain,” under the Allah Las’ label, Calico Discos. His presence mirrors the soul of a weathered saguaro as he pushes loveless notes through an apathetic ache. The audience sways to the molasses and is given a glimpse of what it would be like to not care.
Tim Hill’s full-length release, “Payador”, puts itself on the villa’s shelf, painted with sounds of introverted West coast visions. Some songs are fraught with above-the-palm tree vocals and lonely harmonica solos while others park their front tire on top a warm Hollywood curb. Its full throttle suburban shade, acoustic strands of sun and that Spanish radio station floating from your neighbors window.