Liars

Stage animals. That, in a nutshell, is the essence of Liars live. In Bologna it's Wednesday the fourteenth of November, a cold and otherwise unremarkable weeknight, were it not for the fact that the evening promises one of the hottest and most eagerly awaited performances of the season. At the Estragon, the stage belongs to the trio (expanded to a four-piece for the tour, with the support of an extra guitarist) that has magnetized the attention of the indie rock world with a seemingly endless string of releases, between EPs and albums, in the space of just a few years.

The evening is opened by the classic support act, in this case HTRK from Austria, who offer an intriguing appetizer of tribal noise, dashes of industrial and wave-style reverb. The best possible intro to prepare for the New Yorkers' set.

Angus Andrew, Aaron Hemphill, Julian Gross. There he is, the wondrous trio. Dim lights, drums starting to build, and Angus walks in. Dressed in pure white, as if trying to disguise his diabolical aura.

"Hold Hands And It Will Happen", taken from "They Were Wrong So We Drowned", opens a parade of songs for a show that's certainly not long (about an hour and a quarter), but staggering in depth and emotional intensity.

Angus can't hold himself back. In his unlikely candid white, he writhes, flails, shrieks, shouts, smiles, waves his arms about, tossing his hair, at first neatly combed but unruly within a couple of notes. Rifts tear through the Estragon night for a crowd, quite a large one, that seems to be loving every second. And on it goes, to the notes of a gem of circular music, as obsessive and swirling as few others as it unfurls: "Let's Not Wrestle Mt.Heart Attack", from the second-to-last album "Drum's Not Dead". The drummer hurls every ounce of fury at the cymbals, stoked by an animal-like ardor. And good old Aaron Hemphill, a musical jack-of-all-trades for the occasion, works his guitar masterfully, at times reinventing himself as a percussionist. The single "Plaster Casts Of Everything", taken from the latest album "Liars", finally sweeps the crowd away completely. A single, direct, unstoppable stream of noise pours out of the amplifiers. Angus writhes on the ground. The crowd is in raptures. And after a brief pause, there they are again for the final ten minutes.

An example of depth and power, the Liars' live show, liars by name but not by nature, closes with the crowd in jubilation for what will be remembered as one of the concerts of the year. The only fault to lay at the Liars' feet is really the length: a couple more songs (?) certainly wouldn't have hurt. But come on, the miracle had already happened.

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