so some kind of punk was subject the other day with ted leo? well here lies something that i feel is closer to it in an experimental way.
angus andrew is a remarkably australian kind of dude. i mean, it’s obvious when anyone hears him talk. but he looks australian. it can’t really be coincidence that his singing voice is a little reminiscent of beck’s – no, he’s not australian, but cf. the record club entry related to inxs (which is why i bought a liars album in the first place). angus is of his place, which happens to have been america for many years. a fully fledged ex-pat. i think they think differently.
the growth of these songs on one’s mind is kinda creepy. i didn’t listen to this much after i bought it, but the songs are just there and instantly recognised. it’s another unsettling creation, but don’t mistake that for bad or avoidable – the constructions are largely fascinating, a bit off-key and truly engaging. noisy. weird. sound. nerve.
even a seemingly quiet and slightly pastoral start on i still can see an outside world gives way to a kind of disconcerting roundelay and the punkest song here with background surf guitar for tens of seconds (which returns on the overachievers that, oddly, actually references surfing at malibu “so they can see the stars”). they finish as quietly as they start. a journey in one short song through different terrain. like travelling really far on some supersonic aircraft. it doesn’t sound like that, but it happens like that.
this moves into the next song, proud evolution, that has a high-pitched electronic or guitar line in what sounds like the background (or a layer above the rest of the tune) that funnily enough mimics early inxs (see below). i think the comparisons are warranted.
where it differs to pretty much all other contemporary music, however, is that there’s something art about them and what they create. it’s like you’re listening to an exhibit in a place like the moma or even mona (yes, i mean that, the former in new york and the latter in hobart).
in the promotional beast to push the album, it’s claimed that liars explore the underground support systems created to deal with loss of self to society. my current concern is the loss of society to self which i think this album reflects just as effectively – i’m a lone wolf, of which i have been reminded a lot lately insofar as my beliefs and interests are not held by the society in which i live. does that make me an actual outcast or a deviant? the more i think, the further away from society i get.
whatever the case, if this album was an installation at an art gallery, it’d be called beach house with tinny in the mountains, beer enclosed, people lost.
see if you can stop this from forming a kind of alternative universe in your head (and as a video, it matches the mood of the music perfectly, hold on):
for comparison, here’s one of the best australian songs still to this day:
and proud evolution; see if you can pick the similarities: