Liars are an anomaly. One part funk, art troop, one part spastic teenager with a penchant for banging instruments and throwing tantrums. I’m not gonna lie, this ain’t gonna be everyone’s cup of tea. But, please I beg of you, give them a chance. Play the album a few times and let it grow on you the way picking a scab feels good after a while. You just know the lead singer spits when he talks. You know the guitar player only considers it a good show when he loses a couple nails and bleeds all over his pants. The band uses everything in its music assault, including clicks and clacks, electronics, and maybe even the kitchen sink. It’s aggressive and subdued all at the same time. It’s angry, but makes you want to shake your ass. It has the longest damn title I’ve ever heard, yet the music is extremely concise. It’s your bratty little brother after downing six Pixie Stix, yet it’s full of smarts. Like I said, Liars are an anomaly.
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