B-Side Guys

Lily DeTaeye’s capacity for self-deception reveals itself through autumn fog and guitar lines that channel Jeff Buckley’s Grace without copying it. “Maybe It’s November” operates on the premise that sometimes we lie to ourselves about what hurts, blaming weather patterns for emotional damage caused by absent lovers.

The track emerges from Studio 3 Live From PBS Iowa, her first vinyl release through Midtopia’s Buy Before You Stream initiative, capturing DeTaeye with her Des Moines band in rawer form than her typically pristine studio recordings. Chris Hansen’s drumming, Steph Graham’s bass, and Bryan Vanderpool’s guitar work create foundation for DeTaeye’s examination of misattributed sadness, where she convinces herself that seasonal darkness explains her lethargy rather than confronting the real source.

Her vocal delivery treats this self-deception without judgment, understanding that most people engage in similar mental gymnastics when facing painful truths. The restraint she brings to lines about “waking up every day in a fog” and “pissing time away” prevents the track from drowning in self-pity, instead presenting depression as mundane condition rather than dramatic event.

DeTaeye’s background busking at Des Moines farmers markets since age thirteen informs her comfort with direct emotional communication. Rather than hiding difficult subjects behind metaphor, she presents them plainly—the hollow comfort of blaming November for what love’s absence actually causes. This directness serves the live recording format, where studio polish might have softened edges that need to remain sharp.

Her recent move to New York at twenty-seven positions this Iowa recording as document of specific place and emotional state before geographic transformation. The Third Man Pressing vinyl format provides appropriate medium for music meant to be experienced communally rather than consumed individually through streaming.

“Maybe It’s November” succeeds by treating self-deception as universal coping mechanism rather than personal weakness. Sometimes the most relatable songs acknowledge how we all avoid looking directly at what hurts most.