Lily Slay has been practicing singing into a hairbrush in front ofthe mirror since she was five years old. Like smoke and honey, gravel and silk, and even her name itself, Slay’s distinctive voice andperspective are rife with their own contradictions, cultivated from a decade of ashes, heartache, and unrelenting optimism. At age twelve, Lily traded in her hairbrush for an acoustic guitar and decided to try her hand at songwriting, resulting in her signature mix of self-deprecating honesty and soulful delivery. When shewas kicked out of boarding school for playing a bracing rendition of Marvin Gaye’s “Sexual Healing,” Lily moved to the mean streets of Charleston, busking and playing open mic nights until she was a legal adult. Still unemployable at age twenty-eight, Slay has been flitting around playing demonic vagabond rock and blues with her cousins in The Royal Tinfoil and crooning her folksy ballads to campfire friendsever since.