Descending into the depths of Heaven as winds howl and pints are downed in Villiers Street, an altogether more unhinged, menacing prospect lies in wait under exposed brick tunnels. Brooklyn doom mongers
Liars are back in town, presumably with a view to brutally exposing yet more eardrums to the cacophonous beauty of latest long player Sisterworld, although quite potentially merely to instil a sense of grotesque unease in the heart of the capital. As sweat showers from dangling locks, Antipodean Angus Andrew prowls through a mire of shadow and strobe like an irate broomstick wandering out of the fantastical realms of Fantasia, dawdling through Antichrist, before finally lumbering into Heaven to front the greatest antagonistic act of recent times. Scarecrows On A Killer Slant sees early Horrors Jazzmasters ravaging Andrew's wily exhalations, before an apocalyptic Scissor sears doubting thoughts, reconstructing them in ineffable adoration. The antipathetic, afro-slump of No Barrier Fun, live, is the sound of schizophrenia creeping into the subconscious, whilst an entrancing Proud Evolution is as hypnotic as insomnia-induced bleary eyed dementia spent glaring down a dank and dingy ditch
in the gloom of Linate Airport, the scene of
Dots & Dashes' last visceral introduction to the brotherhood of Sisterworld. A raucous Broken Witch finally murders proceedings, proceedings that've proven to be as formidable tonight as an ATP extravaganza headlined by the NYC trio exclusively, every night, for 40 nights.
