Convenience isn’t something the Liars triad find themselves subjugated by. There are no traces of evidence that would suggest that when Liars make music, they intend for an audible produce that can be consumed by a listener that enjoys the static realms of convenience in convention. Rather, it is evident that the Liars use strict concepts to guide the construction of an album or a live show; there is no simplicity or expectations — This was displayed with the reflection on ‘Walpurgisnacht’, a German legend depicting the Sabbath of Witches, in the most recent album They Were Wrong, So We Drowned. For those that haven’t heard of this band, don’t expect many familiar consonants to draw upon from their records or shows.
The anger and blatant vexation in guitarist/vocalist/cacophonist Angus Andrew is strangely offered in insouciant wrappings; the man pissed with a million things often presented himself in a relaxed manner. There were of course violent outbursts of giving his guitar the pleasure of touching the ceiling, and apparently being dissatisfied with drumsticks, he’d use a microphone to smack a cymbal when he felt like it. On another relevant note, it is a problem for Liars that they have been boxed into the category of ‘art-punk’, yet such a brand is something the band can’t deny they share similarities with. With drummers wearing fishnets as masks, an infinite inventory of random things to make sounds with and the punk tradition of ‘anarchic everything’, you have all the variables that will add up to ‘art-something’ in the genre equation.
The totality of all these things leaves only one opinion, and that is no matter what ‘collective’ this lot have been put within, their live performance is an admirable one — something much better than their apparent siblings. Whether these Liars are overloading the venue with reverberations from tapped up percussion or playing one note repetitively, they are doing it well. Maybe next time their London audience can offer more vibrancy on their part in hip movements.