album // They Were Wrong So We Drowned
I have grown a little tired of the NME constantly calling this a 'concept' album. I'm perhaps more annoyed with that rag's usual display of fairweatherness, in which one week - in interview - they praise the band's creative bravery, and in the next week's pan the album with a mere 6 out of 10; nonetheless, I think the focus on this being a 'concept' album is overdone. Yes, it was inspired by German folklore and mysticism, black magick and all round spookiness, but that isn't necessarily obvious from the music, although it depends on whether you read song titles before listening, which I personally never do.
A line-up change has also seen a change in the predominance instruments, with dirty synths in many cases replacing the guitar as lead instrument. Aaron Hemphill manages the move successfully, unlike their former drummer, who is relaced here by Julian Gross. Furthermore, They Were Wrong So We Drowned sees Liars move from the subsidiary Blast First over to the better-available Mute, although precisely why is unclear. In comparison to their equally lengthily-titled previous album (They Threw Us All In A Trench And Stuck A Monument On Top), the artwork is more dense, eschewing the black and white minimalism of their 2002 release in favour of a collage of garish colours and an array of illustrations and photographs designed to depict the album's 'story'; in their recent NME interview, singer Angus Andrew advises that They Were Wrong... is the tale of "a boy and girl and their teddy bear, who live in a village where the crops keep failing." If that is the case, I can't really tell as the vocals are near indecipherable, but I won't disagree. What I do know is that, for all the concern about the change in sound and the stylistic leanings, the Liars sound is instantly unique and inherently visceral. I do find myself likening it almost in its entirety to fellow New Yorkers' Sonic Youth on their Bad Moon Rising LP - certainly the scratchy noises and loops recall Thurston Moore and Lee Ranaldo's guitar experiments, while the electronics recall Jim O'Rourke's later work the band. There are, however, bucketloads of reference points here, whether it be the occasionally Jaki Liebzeit-esque drumming prevalent on the standout 'We Fenced Other Gardens With The Bones Of Our Own' (where Angus also supplies a passable Damo Suzuki vocal), or the Seventies synthpop-style arpeggiations on 'They Don't Want Your Corn - They Want Your Kids'.
Thankfully, unlike some of the new breed of US alt.rockers, there is a sense of order and structure about these tracks, even though the instruments themselves are working at the furthest extremes of melody. The opener, 'Brocken Witch', is case in point, with its clattering drum loops and chiming bass riffs. The track moves through several sections, before settling into a metronomic Krautrock groove underpinned by a repeated bass synth, with urgent vocal lines rising in intensity over its 6 minute duration. Essentially, the sonic material herein is inventive, but not prone to excess, even on the frazzled metal of 'Hold Hands And It Will Happen Anyway'.
The atmospheric 'Read The Book That Wrote Itself' is phenominal, with its rolling tribal drumming, thunderclap synth work and what appears to be the sound of pencils writing furiously on paper in a style reminiscent of Neubauten on Ende Neu. The positively calming Wurlitzer organ-driven folk nursery rhyme 'Flow My Tears The Spiders Said' completes the album, and despite its sense of compact completeness, They Were Wrong... doesn't feel anywhere near long enough. Surely those seventies-styled concept albums were supposed to be double or even triple LPs, not single disc miniature masterpieces that I can't stop myself from gushing over?
single // There's Always Room On The Broom
New York's Liars have made their transition from Blast First to Mute with this, their second UK single, and the first track to be taken from their new album 'They Were Wrong, So We Drowned'. A marked change in direction, 'There's Always Room On The Broom' - albeit rather nursery rhyme-esque in it's title - takes an influence from the paranormal, using German witchcraft mythology to provide its themes. This release comes in a very tongue in cheek sleeve that rips off Einstürzende Neubauten's sleeve for Strategies Against Architecture.
How to describe this music? Well, on the lead track, an exciting meeting of Neubauten and Sonic Youth wouldn't actually be a bad starting point. Vocalist Angus Andrew bears a striking aural similarity to the Youth's Thurston Moore in his early, naive, punked-up deadpan style. Musically, with its breakdown into fuzzy whitenoise and lo-fi percussion - carboard box rhythms a la Moe Tucker duelling with Neubauten's N U Unruh - this could be from almost any combination of points along indie rock's ancestry. Some ghoulish whining reminds you of the Germanic folklore which inspired the album's creation. Some densely-savaged organ sounds leads you to imagine Clint Boon inside a cauldron with The Lonesome Organist playing devil with distortion pedal.
Track 2, 'Scull And Crossbrooms' [sic], is a miniature percussion
and feedback affair, lasting just over 1.5 minutes, with some early Aphex-esque
grainy synths evoking a ritualistic, covenly atmosphere. 'Broom' is similarly
atmospheric, straight outta Bad Moon Rising, featuring some soft
vocals and rolling, reverberating timpani and percussion, with which William
Winant would be exceptionally impressed.
Despite its slightly goofy leanings, this is a pretty earnest slab of
prime rump post rock, and if you're getting bored of that whole flavourless
low-carb Strokes/nu-punk-lite nonsense, then this could be just what you
need in your diet.