That's My Idea
For Lily Konigsberg and Nate Amos, music has always been the plan. “I wrote a song in a pool in Florida when I was two”, explains Konigsberg, humming the melody over video chat, and Amos nods in agreement, “when I was four I wrote one called “like a cat” about how my girlfriend sleeps at the foot of the bed like a cat”. Though they’ve both been pulled toward songwriting since a young age, it’s a miracle they ever ended up doing it together.
While Konigsberg is a Brooklyn lifer, Amos’ family bounced around from Colorado to Pennsylvania and eventually Vermont. At some point, he up and left to Chicago, looking for a change of scenery. “I was just bored, I still am,” he says of the decision, which might also explain the immense volume of recording projects (roughly 250) that he worked on during his four year stint there. Eventually he ended up in New York to start the avant pop band Water From Your Eyes, and before long, had crossed paths with Lily.
After years performing with her experimental punk group Palberta, Konigsberg was beginning to carve out a solo career, and thought Amos could be a potential producer. What began as a trial session for her debut album quickly evolved into a songwriting competition, with the two churning out dozens of tracks over the Fall of 2020. “Lily became the lyric supervisor and I became the music supervisor”, explains Amos, “the roles emerged”. With such undeniable chemistry, it was only logical that they form a band, the hilarious and perfectly named My Idea.
On their debut EP, the duo pack their immense personalities into bite sized pop experiments. “Stay Away Still” delivers tongue-in-cheek lines like “depression’s a conspiracy theory” over tightly wound indie rock, while “Birthday” immediately pivots into icy glitchiness, pitting pulsing drum & bass against glossy vocals. There’s an economy to their songwriting, every production choice and lyric pulling you into their world without ever becoming overwhelming. Lyrics like “God is great and music’s better” feel like a revelation on “I Can’t Dance”, and the piano arpeggios on “Keep Lying To Me” build the tension to a boiling point before erupting into autotuned euphoria.
Their union has been described by friends as “watching two planets collide”, and their 13-minute debut feels like watching a universe only begin to expand.