They Were Wrong, So We Drowned
||"There's Always Room on the Broom"
A strident lack of normal movement in the anima(l) of "They
Were Wrong, So We Drowned" could well prove for too agglutinous
a confit, or in other words it might be excessively, nigh on wantonly,
steeped in its own allegorical fattiness for greater hipster consumption.
In particular as this seems now a rather pious realm, and one
whose gourmandizing has, by all accounts, tended towards the lean
and not-so-mean. All in the name of collegial and succour-prone
peristalsis perhaps. But it is ironic then that the singer would
outline a desire to be a horse on the first track, and not say
an insect or something more in line with cosmopolitan solecism,
when we consider as well that the one thing they possess as a
band undisputedly is a certain hipster (dark) horse sense.
Of course, the first album from the Liars was a more athletic
(work) horse, which, for all intents and purposes, also reached
out to the aggregate and honest trendlet-bound needs of that moment.
But what could be remarkable about this album is a palpable, if
improbable, potential on its part to perform the same. Might be
real savvy in other words, or else just about completely mystifying
(to some) in its (aforementioned) seeming lack of any responsible
organizational standard, even to fit with the (relatively) viable
'tortured bon vivant' meme that it represents. Not a watermark
level of organization as can be often ascertained in work by their
referenced fiery forbears (more or less Neubaten, Youth, Heat)
-- not to mention, more recently, in such febrile avatars of transportive
texture as Vibracathedral Orchestra and Sightings, to name just
Do (the?) Liars, here and now, demonstrate any grace in what
they are doing? Perhaps sensing that the only truly publicly acceptable
guess will be "yes, probably" is kind of a bold move.
Surely this will oft be the case, and rampant forfeiture to the
bluff will arrive too, as any anonymous negative response to the
album will come across to proximate peers as simply the MORE obsequious
option in/on the face of it; i.e. merely naively inimical susurration
expected from those somehow perceiving themselves as not having
had relented to a woefully pragmatic deadening of otherwise inherent
critical faculties. Resembling a type of inversely journalistic
devil's advocacy, a syndrome that has permeated the edgewise majority
(I feel) will probably pick up in the record's wake, and, likewise,
generally purport to be in the name of a wider, value judgment-wary
cause. One that seeks, in any case, to prevent the fomenting of
no-fun, zero-sum, baby-bathwater gripe meltdown scenarios, just
as may be known to occur at your local record store (certainly
not just this one), music magazine, weblog, et al
least to keep them in (small-ish) proportion.
In this they might have achieved something. Almost analogous
to the films of Harmony Korine (or maybe not), it's really one
for the people to decide. If you're interested, you obviously
ought to listen for yourself. [DHo]