Angus Andrews and Aaron Hemphill cofounded art-damaged post-punk cooperative Liars near the turn of the millennium, recruiting percussionist Julian Gross in 2002.
First churning out angular punk-funk, à la a more digitally processed Gang of Four, Liars quickly transitioned into an outlet for oscillator exorcisms and abrasive, tribal grooves. In the past decade Liars have compiled an appropriately dense catalog that can range from monolithic and deranged to fragile and detached before swinging back to more approachable, while still sinister and insistent motifs.
Liars’ seventh and most recent album, 2014’s Mess, recalls in part the post-industrial, bluntly percussive style of EBM (electronic body music) that peaked in the early ’90s on the Wax Trax! label. A seemingly unflagging sense of tension comes from the band’s willingness to morph publically, consolidating new means to deliver brooding, pitch-bent perversion before our eyes. For Liars, the constant is restlessness. Here is a brief glimpse into Liars’ progression through the band’s equipment accumulation, presented in chronological order.