Liars - WIXIW

One of the cornerstones of the reputations of bands like Radiohead and Animal Collective is their ability to put out new records which don't just move forwards but also diagonally. Kid A, of course, is the quintessential example of a band reinventing itself, while Animal Collective have amassed a discography which plays more like a series of alternative debuts than a succession of releases – moving from whispered acoustics, to freak out rock to looped electronics without a blink. Liars – although of an altogether lower profile, despite continual critical adoration – are also masters of this shark-like mode of perpetual movement, and radical reinvention. And WIXIW is their boldest break from their own immediately preceding material of all: following two contemplative, but ultimately noisy guitar records, WIXIW unfurls as a swirling, viscous potion of electronics and emotional weariness, no guitars invited.

That's not to say that Liars have released their Merriweather Post Pavilion; they haven't pulled the recently trending avant-garde-gone-pop trick. WIXIW offers up a much colder landscape than its immediate predecessors; a decidedly tense atmosphere pervading the suite, never being permitted to explode into the post-punk freak outs which used to dissipate this element of Liars' sound. With immediate gratification always held at arm's length, the listener is forced to immerse themselves fully into the holistic feel of WIXIW as a full collection – similar sounding arpeggios and mnemonic vocal refrains giving the initial illusion of a featureless soundscape, but in actuality offering up a sequence of quiet musical revelations and intense emotional explosions.

The lyrics of the coda to 'His and Mine Sensations' (“take 'em out, take 'em out”) echoes Sisterworld highlight 'Scarecrows on A Killer Slant', and the comparison deftly highlights the difference in approaches between WIXIW and Liars' recent work: while tracks like 'Scarecrows' paid off by erupting into fist pumping energy and pounding rhythm, WIXIW provides catharsis through acts of restraint, hidden subtleties and nuance – resulting in passages like the back half of the title track, channelling a viscerally woozy despair previously untapped by Liars.

As clichéd as it sounds to have to use the tired phrase, WIXIW is undoubtedly a headphones album; one which, for all its focus on subtlety and restraint, can't be said to be operating upon any sort of 'less is more' approach. This is probably the most densely packed mix of any of Liars' records; flourishes, murmurs, glitches, and frankly unidentifiable noises buried deep, deep in the mix, ready for the discerning ear to dig for it like treasure. And so while WIXIW sounds like Liars at their most vacant and restrained, it actually finds them operating at their most emotionally fraught and hyper-creative – a fact which results in a record sounding coldly alienating to the cursory listener, but one which slowly reveals itself as being a nervous masterpiece, and probably the best LP Liars have put out to date.