The Liars - They Threw Us All In a Trench and Stuck a Monument On Top

The first time I heard the Liars I was in awe. A single two-minute composition of danceability, crushing rhythms and lobotomizing guitars compacted nearly everything I innately knew music could create, but never has. Until now, of course. With They Threw Us All In a Trench and Stuck a Monument On Top, originally a Gern Blandsten release now residing beneath the Mute/Blast First label as a post-punk visionary, the Liars don’t mess around – they go for the kill and have an awful fun time in the process. And, trust me, you’ll be more than willing to proclaim their name in conquest and join them in their crusade to destroy music. The Liars send shivers down your spine right before they snap them, swoon with a jittery swagger before crushing you with deadly rhythms and throw down drum machine stomps before torching them with cacophonous noise. Although all this is succinctly demonstrated in “Loose Nuts on the Veladrome,” such descriptions don’t even begin to convey the sheer power, raw aesthetics and experimental outcries the Liars purvey. But the Liars don’t just thrash without meaning or sense of expansion; They Threw Us All is the sound of punk-noise teaching itself how to jive on the dancefloor. As brooding as their brand of keyboard-aggro noise is, they also manage to encompass outlandish musicianship and slather it with fun-infused dance sequences. Drum machines and the rhythm section’s sheer chaos slaughter the weak stomached and squeamish on “Nothing is Ever Lost or Can be Lost My Science Friend.” Also, while Angus Andrew spits, “Do the twist/ Dance this direction,” on “Mr Your on Fire Mr” there is no body that could resist the thick rhythms that cement your mind while the guitar zings an abrasive squeal on the two-minute conformity dismantling tune. But, of course, there’s much more to the dance-inducing dirtiness than first appears; somewhere between the cowbell breaks, synthesized handclaps and mauling distortion, it all becomes clear and you realize that the Liars rely on no past touchstones to dial into acclaim – they utilize originality in its truest sense and ingenuity in its most primal state. They even go as far as a hypnotic half-hour bombardment of bass-laden, distortion buzzing grinding on “This Dust Makes That Mud” that ultimately shoves They Threw Us All to a halt of glorious noise. These four don’t just break the mold; they obliterate it into nothingness and eradicate it with aural neutron bombs. They Threw Us All is the sound of music being reconstructed, torn apart and torched to flames all in the name of greatness. They call themselves the Liars – don’t forget it, it’s one of the only synonyms for dangerous, astonishing and fucking amazing music. [www.liarsliarsliars.com]