So we said little about the release of Liars‘ Sisterworld, not because we didn’t rate it, which we did- and a lot-, but simply because we thought all of you would already know about it-guess we tend to focus on things which are on the left side of leftfield, for good or for ill. That’s also the reason why some excellent bands drop off the radar vectors projected in these pages- we keep digging deep, for our own pleasure and, in an ancillary manner, we hope, yours.
But I thought I would say something about them now upon hearing their new single, ‘Overachievers‘ (video). They are, after all, one of the reasons why we started doing this thing, a wild bunch of visionary coyotes, wearing their influences in the sleeves of their wizard cloaks (and their records too, remember There’s Always Room in the Broom?), reconfiguring them with the manic verve of idiot savants beating the solar system and allied parallel planes record of Rubik cube re-assemblage, if only the rubik cube was embossed with punk esoterica, snap, to hurl it in your lap with the anarchistic glee of Bulgakov’s Master, detonation of soul napalm and heads blown away once again. Natch.
In the aforementioned release we find, in addition to the snotty pumped up snotty pre-hardcore of the title tune, and another chapter in their sustained love affair with perversely heartrending folk of Only Sometimes, ‘Pleasure is Boss’, a piece of vintage kick ass Liars death valley 69 funk, feat. creepy kiddy crypto-incantations or another call to wash the streets with the blood of the Joneses, drums redoubling as if you were being dragged into the terrordrome by unholy balaclava clad brutes, all of this punctured with discrete shards of schematic dissonance harkening back to those times of yore when Erase Errata used to unleash swarms of killer owls upon the dancefloor every other night.
Everything in its right place then.
You wake up one morning and you find that Fabulous Diamonds are back from that queer land of drone and drum where they dwell, still keeping their album and song titles within the natural numbers system, still camping into that area of your brain that stores a primeval fascination for the gaudy paraphernalia of the shadow circus, that remnant of pagan ceremony not circumscribed to the cycle of sowing and harvest, but to the migratory tides which brought gypsy caravans to the lands of your ancestors, their knowledge being geographically bounded, everything from without magic & ecstasy.
The second tune is the echo of their arrival, pounding drums and an intoxicating organ drone closing upon you like the wings of the night, darkness pierced by scented fires, silence broken by mystic chants, an invisible force pushes you towards a gilded cage where a blind divinatrix sits, the cards are laid down and a message uttered, content lost in the blur, remembered in dreams.
Out soon in Siltbreeze