Tastemaker
Because today is Mel Brooks day.
Anne Bancroft on meeting Mel Brooks
I saw Liars perform at the Metropolitan Museum of Art last night in the Temple of Dendur. They performed mostly new songs for a little under an hour as the sun went down.
I have now seen Liars four times and they are one of the only bands I will gladly see any time they come around. As I get older, I’m less amped to go and see live music. I get tired. Bored. Too drunk. I’m curious about a lot of bands, so I’ll go and see acts that I’m not necessarily crazy about, just to see what they’ve got to offer. This is oftentimes rewarding - sometimes very rewarding - but even when that’s the case, by the end, most times, enough is enough. Unless it’s a favorite artist and I know all of the songs, I’m normally ready for the show to end before the band is.*
That’s never the case with Liars. Each of the four times I’ve seen them they have put on an adventurous show that is different than the one I saw last. They change their “musical identity” with every album, so with every live show they need to change how they perform in order to suit their new music, which they commit to 100 percent with great sincerity and respect, both for their art and for the audience that’s come to see and listen to them play. You’re not seeing a half-assed performance at a Liars show.
I left the Temple of Dendur last night in awe of Liars. They are so committed and so adventurous - I would follow them into the depths of hell. I trust them that much.
And while I can’t wait to hear what’s next from these guys, I’m excited to once again delve deeply into their rich catalogue. Their unwavering dedication to pushing themselves and their art has paid off: they have my trust, and I will certainly be seeing them the next time they are in New York City.
*Feel free to call me a downer. In this case, I really am. Though a downer with a very attuned aural palette might be more apt!
Every spring when the weather feels right, I post this song. An absolute jam. Short skirts, baby!
“Cuz when the minutes seem like hours and the hours seem like days/Then a week goes by you know it takes my breath away/All the minutes in the world could never take your place/There’s one thousand four hundred and forty hours in my day”. As good a description there is of being in love.
There Are Maybe Ten or Twelve
