Little Tybee

Little Tybee is something of a mini orchestra with its five members all engaged in intricate musicianship. Their name comes from a tiny island off the coast of their native Georgia, where, legend has it an undetonated atomic bomb from the 1950s lies missing. They jokingly attribute the quirkiness of their debut album Building a Bomb to the long-term effects of eating radiation-drenched seafood, but it’s more likely that band mastermind Brock Scott was just born that way. Scott dropped by New York with instrumental cohorts to play some of the delicate but feisty tunes from Building a Bomb for ASCAP.

When surprise summer thunderstorms dampened plans to film in the backyard, the band gamely squeezed into the acoustically wonderful but decidedly “cozy” front bedroom of Playback editor Lavinia Jones Wright’s furniture-less Brooklyn apartment. The music scared off the clouds just in time for an outdoor chat with Scott about Little Tybee’s creative process and their place in the burgeoning Atlanta indie scene. - ASCAP

When Little Tybee’s Building a Bomb (Self-released) showed up in the UTR mailbox, we desperately hoped it would be good. Not enough bands submitting music to these pages take the time to consider the impact of truly good album art and packaging; Little Tybee has nailed it with a custom, eco-friendly fold-together number that simultaneously recalls an architectural blueprint and a children’s pop-up book. A small amount of investigation reveals that the copy sitting on our desk is a hand-made, one-of-a-kind original, as are all copies of the album. First impressions make all the difference, folks.

Imagine our relief when the proverbial pages of the book matched its excellent cover. Building a Bomb is quite an accomplishment. Following on the heels of their debut EP I Wonder Which House The Fish Will Live In, the band’s first full-length confidently expands on its initial offering with a collection of songs that stick with a similar instrumental palette (acoustic guitar, violin, percussion and loops, electric bass) while hopping around an impressive number of styles ranging from ‘60s country-pop of the title track to the fugue-ish reflection of “Spell Check His Eulogy.”

There are not a lot of obvious touch points for Little Tybee’s particular blend of atmospheric pop. Imagine Sigur Rós meeting up with High Llamas (circa 1998) for English lessons before heading off to L.A. to be produced by Donald Fagan—or perhaps The Waterboys reaching a few important conclusions over a pot of tea with Wilco. Vocalist Brock Scott’s pinched delivery contracts and expands into a swelling falsetto on a moment’s notice, delicately dancing with Ryan Gregory’s violin like two birds circling each other in an Autumn sky.

Like many good albums, Building a Bomb has a sense of a very particular time and place to it, as if it were composed, performed and recorded in one room over a weekend on top of some distant, snow-covered mountain top or, perhaps, in a ramen-littered studio apartment. Little Tybee successfully creates its own musical vernacular, something light and intangible between the way that Scott pronounces certain words, the inherent swing of the rhythm section or the brief, unexpected key changes that pop up here and there like rabbits out of their holes. Building a Bomb feels like one of the more significant discoveries of the year; be sure to buy your own individual copy and to treasure it, always. - American Songwriter Magazine - David Mead

Arriving so early, I caught the tail end of sound check. It was Gray's opening act, local band Little Tybee — and they were killing it. It sounded like Sting's signature sound drizzled over folk instrumentation. Haunting vocals and strings, subtle percussion and mesmerizing bass ... I found a seat and made myself at home.

The group wrapped the sample session, apologized for the spoiler and left the stage. Hook, line and sinker, I was glued to my seat, anticipating their return, not at all knowing what Macy Gray, the headliner, would have to offer.

Little Tybee ultimately appeared again, opened the show just as brilliantly as their sound check promised, and being that far in, I was down for giving Gray a chance. - rollingout.com - gerald radford

It's common to hear a new indie band and have them instantly hold your attention for the length of an ep, but it's rare that you feel this way because of a violin. It's Little Tybee's softly sweet violin that is the cornerstone of the band's charm, and once the strings have you so will the voice, as it glides from gruff to falsetto. Foes of electric keyboards and synthesized drums may find these elements too obtrusive, but those who can hear past them will be glad they're listening. - cormac - 75 Or Less

I've not experienced a band that so beautifully incorporates cheesy 70s style electric piano and casiotone drum beats, with violin, real piano, and traditional musical arrangements. There is a sincere quality in the vocal performances that quickly endears the listener to the material. - Viva Indie Rock Blog

Piano. Violin. Raspy yet strong vocals. Mash that goodness into a thick goo and spread it between some poptarts and BAM!! Little Tybee! The EP is filled to the brim with soft orchestral pop that reminds me of Andrew Bird on one side and Fleet Foxes on the other. - Pasta Primavera

Stunning violin floats above equally gorgeous piano and guitar riffs with strangely synthetic percussion filling in the rest in a combination that is as bewildering as it is engaging. The music's appealing oddness is actually quite immediate in its enjoyability, but repeat listens will uncover even more to love. It's difficult to pick favorites, but the lovely "Fallen Bird," with its gently rocking pace and the more spare title track are current high points for me. Though it's only an EP, I Wonder Which House the Fish Will Live In feels more like a fully realized album in the way that it's constructed and because the somewhat lengthy tunes produce almost 27 minutes of music. With songs as strong as these, the news that the band is now working on their debut LP should be very good news. - Chris Nowling

A brand-new Atlanta-based trio, Little Tybee (named after a small nature preserve off the shore of Savannah) plays a sprightly, light-footed sort of indie rock that combines organic and electronic sounds with offhanded flair. The unexpected center of the song, musically, is Ryan Gregory's violin. We first hear it at 0:10, playing a distinctive grouping of twelve notes, launched by a pair of oddly accented triplets that end up as the song's guiding hook when singer Brock Scott gets hold of it. He's got a friendly tenor, with a bit of texture to it, so we're happy to hand it over to him. And listen to how Gregory, in the background, while Scott sings that off-kilter motif (first at 0:23), now plucks instead of bows his strings.
Note also that it's the violinist who takes the song's primary instrumental solo (1:15), which offers an embellished pizzicato version of the recurring theme, and also leads the jaunty instrumental coda. And perhaps the ultimate tribute to the violin here is that Scott sings rather like a violin in the wordless chorus section, doing a playful bit of vocal "bowing" and "plucking" himself, which is accentuated by the fact that he sings notes but not words, some of them precisely aligned with the notes the violin plays simultaneously. - Finger Tips