By Daniel Kohn
By Imade Nibokun
By Arrissia Owen
By Lilledeshan Bose
By Sarah Bennett
By Adam Lovinus
By Jena Ardell
By Nate Jackson
Liars are the soldiers behind some truly mind-expanding noise. Their brand of viscous drone takes the finest elements of Oz didgeridoo croaks, psychotropics-in-the-woods drumming, No New York and rec-room guitaring and blends them with a kamikaze punk ethic.
The band isn't really from anywhere. They did, however, manage to bridge the intercontinental divide and end up on the soundtrack to early '00s Brooklyn, when the burrough fully settled into being the hipster playground it is known as today. Angus Andrew, a Nick Cave/Andrew W.K.-ish looking motherfucker, fronts the band with an assault on the room that is equal parts heavy noise and arty loonyism.
As cohorts of the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Oneida and Get Hustle, Liars have helped dig a cavity of off-the-edge musical euphoria. As a result, they've done what legions of ironic dance parties intended to do in terms of getting the indie kids to not only uncross their arms, but also dance on the floor, more often than not losing their collective shit somewhere in between the redemptive sonic assault, hedonistic road show and genuine progression.
Liars with the Apes and Rabbits at the Glass House, 200 W. Second St., Pomona, (909) 865-3802; www.theglasshouse.us. Sun., 7 p.m. $12. All ages.