Lilly Hiatt at The Attic at The State Theatre, State College, PA (December 13th, 2025)
In my house, we had an old Mason jar where we put all the spare bits and left over pieces of Lego sets, the small little cubes of hard plastic landmines that we stepped on in the middle of the night; Harry Potter figures and Stormtroopers without heads. It was full of the colorful and now forgotten flotsam and jetsam that had once been a part of a beautiful castle, a starship, or a simple house with a window. But every now and then, someone would dump out that mason jar and find their way to something new from those leftovers. Suddenly there might be garden, with a bench made from the door of tree house, perched on the legs of a miniature pirate. Or a multi-colored house with a spinning wheel for a chimney. Something new out of something old, brought about by nothing but curiosity and the simple human need to make meaning out of what remains.
That, to me, is Americana music. Picking out small pieces from those songs we grew up on, rebelled on, and those found in our own time, and then molding something meaningful and new. Each piece coming with its own backstory and history, but willing to settle into a new story.
That, too, is the music of Lilly Hiatt: songs that build from familiar sounds, but reassembled with courage and honesty. She has the audacity to tip the Mason jar to the floor and see what new world she can create from the pieces that came before.
Thus, on the penultimate night of her “coldest tour ever,” Lilly Hiatt brought her stripped-down creations to the Attic at the State Theatre in State College, Pennsylvania. Accompanied only by her acoustic guitar, she let her songs stand on their bare bones, showing where old pieces found new places. In the quiet, intimate space of the Attic, with no band to hide behind, Hiatt’s craftsmanship was unmistakable, building and telling stories that felt familiar, yet still carried the shine of something entirely new.
The evening started with every musician’s nightmare: a technical glitch caused by the Sound-Check Gremlin that assures a smooth sound check is followed by mysterious crackle, feedback or just plain silence at showtime. Rather than being rattled, Hiatt joked the gremlin away and seamlessly transitioned to storyteller mode. The first story was “All Kinds of People,” from her Trinity Lane album – a song full of emotional honesty and self-reflection. The transition to the upbeat and hooky “Brightest Star,” set the stage for the stories she would reveal over the next 90 minutes: “This whole winter long I’ve been lost in a song, drinking coffee not eating much food…”
What came next was proof that Lilly Hiatt embodies the heart of Americana music: rebellion, non-conformity and a devil-may-care sprit that made her more authentic and human. Despite being told “you can’t put distortion on an acoustic guitar,” Hiatt clicked a foot pedal anyway, and by sheer will and grit transformed her 2007 Gibson mini J-200 acoustic into a new voice: one of crackling electric wisdom, one of slipping sideways – just out of the reach of life’s demands – if even for a moment “tucked between Thursday and Friday” from the song “Hidden Day.”
The evening unfolded in series of moments of old pieces becoming back to life – songs and thoughts and stories from the road: the audience member in New York who took a call during her set, the road trip – only half remembered – with Margo Price, meeting Lemon Drop, the dog a fan brought to her show. Songs about knowing – but not doing – better (“I’m Such a Hypocrite,” songs about love (“I Just Know You’re My Man,”) and about balancing a mix between affection and distance (“Trinity Lane”).
The highlight came as the evening was winding down. Hiatt told a story about a ghost in the machine: specifically, a ghost named “Evelyn” who lived in her ice machine – a humorous tale that lead to a serious song, “Evelyn’s House,” that connected everyone to their past and reminded them, we are – at least in part – where we came from.
In the end, Hiatt closed with a song that was less goodbye and more a philosophy — a reminder not to “piss on what you love the most” (“Big Bad Wolf”). It was a poetic synopsis of who Lilly Hiatt has always been: a restless, honest artist, fearlessly tipping over the Mason jar, scattering the pieces, and building a new vision with what still feels true. Then, she tore it down without nostalgia, rebuilt without apology, and somehow made the old into a new familiar. And trust me — you want to hear what she puts together next.
Enjoy some of our previous coverage here: Interview: Lilly Hiatt and Her Old Friend Music
Find tour dates and updates here: https://www.lillyhiatt.com