Review of Carolina Liars album Coming To Terms.
I have a dream. The dream goes thus: This album, by Carolina Liar - a group of Swedish & American men - will go down in history. In decades to come, people will raise an eyebrow, nod knowingly at one another and, with a wry grin, utter the words 'ah, yes, Carolina Liar. The band that changed everything.'
Because, you see, in an ideal world, Carolina Liar will be the tipping point. The release of this album will be that final catalyst that we have all been waiting for. The fuel on the fire of the music industry that makes everybody sit up and ask that immortal question.
Why must we be subjected to this sub-Keane, airwave-chummy cod rock? Why do record company executives continue to throw money at these turgid, lumpen, walking lobotomies, whilst all around us the real sources of creativity and inspiration are struggling to survive, having their plugs pulled, one by one, day by day. Why do people write songs when they have nothing to say? Why have we put up with this for so long?
Obviously, the music critic, no matter how critical they may be, has a duty and a responsibility to at least attempt to describe the music to the reader. So: The sound of Carolina Liar is like. . that's what I imagine it sounds like in a coma, you see. Hang on, I'm getting some more sounds here: It's also very similar to the sound of the effluence being pumped out of the back of the doctor's surgery, the day that U2 went in for their flu jabs. It's the sound of a planet on a downward spiral. The sound of 50 years of music history eating its own rectum. The sound of a serious lack of sound. Music with no musicality. Carolina Liar: The hot new non-talent. Do what you like, but I've found my tipping point.