It's hard to believe sometimes but LA based trio (by way of NY) Liars have been around for over a decade, plying their twisted brand of experimental rock on anyone who will listen. Mess is their seventh album and it is a title that very well represents their unkempt ethos. The guitars that burned so brightly on those first few albums are a distant memory, having been replaced by murderous computers and cackling synthesizers. The only one constant motif has been singer/producer Angus Andrew.
The twists and turns of Mess are claustrophobic while the moments of levity that shine through are elementally gorgeous. The latter is personified best in lead single 'Mess on a Mission', a joyous racket hell bent on rapture. Your journey along the way is filled with the bleeps and burbles of machinery and their warped rhythms. The first half of the record only just barely keeps it together so when the B-side begins all bets are off and the chaos grows more abstract and wild.
Mess, just like the men who made it, is absolutely fearless. It is throwback and futuristic all in one – a teetering stack of contradictions that is equal parts ecstasy and gloom.
