Liars

LiarsLiarsA quick glance at the superficial (read: jewel case) presentation of the Liars’ fourth studio album, Liars, might make one think that the disc in their hands is the product of a local or regional act. That’s not to say that Liars looks like an amateur product with it’s “this’ll do” presentation, but when compared to their last two albums … well … let’s just say that dripping-with-pretentiousness stench no longer smells like an experiment. That’s right: the Liars – liner notes, content, hairdos and all – have finally figured themselves out, and it only took four albums.

Similar to their previous, prog-friendly release, Drum’s Not Dead, Liars at times walks with thick, Krautrock footing and airy, seemingly unfocused direction; “seemingly” being the key word. While each of their releases have, if nothing else, hinted at a brilliant, fresh sound, none have pulled off such an illusion quite enough to warrant the endless critical praise they’ve always received. Full of ideas as ever, singer Angus Andrew, guitarist Aaron Hemphill and percussionist Julian Gross have finally released a lucid album that leaves the band’s signature indulgence-as-art approach at the door, checked in favor of a more realized, brave and mature record that will hopefully catapult the band into more reliable territory.

The sonic quality of Liars is purposefully throwing at times, ostensibly begging at moments to be considered as some sort of modern, roundabout sequel to the Velvet Underground’s avant-garde benchmark, White Light/White Heat, sans the noodles and wonderfully indulgent moments. Noisy but not quite abrasive, edgy but somehow pretty, the Liars have put together an 11-track album that plays through with an entertaining cohesion made for fans of album-oriented rock. Simply, they’ve made an album that Can fans (who don’t mind if a band’s vision overshadows their musicianship) can love and learn, then love some more and maybe even play alongside Tago Mago. They’ve made an album that could even make Josh “Queens of the Stone Age” Homme’s recent work seem dull and clocked-in.

At the center of the mess is Andrew, a lackadaisical frontman cool as the cover of Goo with limited lyrical and vocal abilities that occasionally make his tastemaker posturing feel a bit counterfeit, but still manage to feel oddly ambitious in review. At times he sings like Beck (sans the haughtiness), other times like James Murphy and, when he’s at his best, quite a bit like a less cartoon-y, swaggering Dean Wareham (circa his Luna years). The real surprise here is that Andrew is writing structured songs with hooks that utilize accompaniments that bring to mind the louder side of Sebadoh, if you can believe that.

Does Liars sound like an army? Yes, at times it does; an arty army by a band who have spent a good amount of time observing modern music with their eyes on the blender. Liars just might be the best noisy, experimental pop/rock album of the year not released by Menomena.  7/10

Written by G. William Locke