Hell, or a simple cessation of consciousness: that's what Atheists have to look forward to. Pascal, that practical Frenchman, once countered atheism by suggesting one might as well believe in God, because really, what do you have to lose? Well Blaise, our dignity, for starters, and that's plenty. Art-funk luminaries Liars and schizo-psychers Oneida aim to embody the Truth and the Light, and put your faith in them if you must, but neither brings quite enough here to justify this record's proclamation; however these NYC evangelists see it, this split CD will not find many converts.
Given the dynamism of both groups, there's a surprising dearth of gripping sounds on Atheists, Reconsider. The greatest disappointment is that Liars-- the more easily and readily revered prophets-- are mostly at fault for the record's shortcomings, while Oneida, whom I'd pegged as a babbling cadre of zealots, are the true saviors. And I hate to paint this in terms of a competition, but given the nature of the disc, one band's going to show up the other; it's inevitable.
Each act puts forth three tracks: a pair of still-warm newborns and a third cover version, of the other band's material. Even the least imaginative of their followers can surely see the potential in this arrangement: Oneida could have re-christened "Every Day is a Child with Teeth" in acid, turning its frayed nerves and pent-up disorder into the penultimate bad trip, a seven-minute sermon on a simple commandment. Liars had the chance to force the spacey lilt of "Rose and Licorice" to submit to their brutal, gladiatorial clatter, but the chance for such clean juxtaposition of styles comes along just this side of "never", and when it finally comes time for the bands to clash head on, they play it completely straight. "Letdown" just scratches the surface-- creatively speaking, this is a a sharp plummet. No friction, no sparks; each band cozies up to the songs, makes nice with them and pretty soon, it's hard to care who did what to whom, since these new testaments aren't as exciting.
Still, the revelation is noteworthy, in that both cover tracks stand proudly in the face of the source material, among the better work in each band's repertoire (a lofty perch with no room for the pair of new Liars tracks). On one hand, they deserve credit for steadfastly adhering to a concept, never buckling to expectation, mostly ignoring their audience. The Fins to make Us More Fish-Like EP barely hinted at this transition: "All in All a Careful Party" and "Dorothy Taps the Toe of the Tinman" sound nothing like Liars' established approach to post-post-punk. The band have turned a corner into pure experimentalism here: melody is a thing of the past, a relic, forsaken in favor of strange assemblages, noises and rhythms. The vital, spastic energy that flowed through their earlier material is drugged, twitching and mumbling in a hazy murmur.
Careful study peels back the layers of these tracks, and lends an appreciation for their place within the scope of the record. Though the Liars' cuts are supremely inaccessible, moody pieces, their chaotic, indecipherable babel plays against Oneida's monolithic tower. Oneida set their cuts on full-blast, turning out some of the most evocative music they've ever produced. "Privilege" is a pummeling, concussive blow to the senses, consuming itself before it has a chance to wear the listener down; it's straightforward, driving psych-rock on par with any of their early work, though it still pales-- like most of their material-- to "Fantastic Morgue".
If the whole record is just one twisted parable, "Fantastic Morgue" is its enlightening conclusion. An epic of fuzzed-out rock melodrama like this requires some faith-- if you run toward the light sans a pure heart, its blinding riff might reduce you to ashes. Lyrics like "One if by land/ And seven by sea/ Take away ten/ You're still ugly" shatter the pretentious nature of this mostly secular psalm, admitting that concept exceeds execution on Atheists, Reconsider, despite occasional moments of conviction.
