Liars go conceptual witch-hunting

Before the second song commences someone shouts, rather politely [but then, this is a small place] - “The greatest band in the world!”; halfway through the set guitarist Aaron Hemphill is exchanging words with a heckler and promising to refund “his dissatisfaction”, while somebody else screams “F-off!” as the band signs off. Well, quite typical reactions to a Liars’ gig, one reckons.

The New York based band is in town for three shows in smallish venues, their first dates since coming over on the Sonic Youth tour, to preview their second, February-due, album ‘They Were Wrong, So We Drowned’. It is all about exploring the facts and folklore of witches and their craft; the new songs appear to be vocalised by banshee-like delivery of vowels mainly!

Liars are dissonant, freaky, deconstructors and reassemblers of material that acknowledge the triumvirate of the essential attributes: rhythmic, cerebral and carnal or, as the late Ian Dury slogan’d it - sex and drugs and Rock’n’Roll. They’re masters of primal, tribal beats that get bodies and muscles engaged, sex figures in the chords’ nature, while topping it with different layers of implacable noises that open wormholes to the end of harmony. A piece of advice for ‘Harry Potter’ fans: hide behind sofas, now!

Angus Andrew leads this combo into a dark night of horror, a sonic apocalypse, harsh, abrasive tonal marauding, striking on all sides, burning bridges as they conquer them. Imagine if all avant-garde musics were roads - from Velvet Underground to Sonic Youth - and they all lead to Rome where the emperor in residence is - Liars. Art and how to survive appears to be a question quite a few find the best answered by leaving it alone… for the sake and preservation of their little sanitised tastes.

The story is that the album found its subject after Hemphill insisted that the first track demoed for this album should be called ‘Broken Witches’. Misspelling it on a search engine to ‘Brocken Witches’, Angus discovered a whole world of Walpurgisnacht, the night when the witches fly on their broomsticks to Brocken, Germany’s highest peak, deep in the Hartz mountain range; 30 April is also a date of the Witches Sabbath, according to the Inquisition at the height of the witch-hunt hysteria of the middle ages. Still, substitute it for media, and television in particular, and see where the concept of spells takes you.

The over-subscribed venue - I was taking notes by hanging from a staircase leading to a DJ booth which should explain the bandage - is challenged to another extreme show that generally bypasses avant-pop sensibilities and minimalist funk of their calling disc, ‘They Threw Us All In A Trench And Stuck A Monument On Top’, for an all-senses alert. There is no time to introduce songs in this aural assault that honours the long line of pioneers, from Can to Public Image Ltd to Einsturzende Neubauten to ‘Star Trek’… Erm, as in ‘Further than…’

The Strokes, still the toast of NYC’s rock revival, are only pop-puppies pretending to bite, while Liars are werewolves outta control in a strange land. Drummer Ron Albertson wore a pink mini-dress, matching elbow-length gloves and ‘Alles fiend’ written on his chest. No, tonight was ‘Alles helden’.

If you were looking for a cinematic comparison, Liars are like a David Lynch’s film. Thus, felt my mind and soul freed… for a trice of eternity. My libido refreshed, ‘Juicy’ Lucy… Gotta go back for more live dosage.

Tour dates (remaining):

13 November - 291 Gallery, London
14 November - 93ft East, London
15 November - Rescue Rooms, Nottingham
16 November - King Tuts, Glasgow