Receive Weekly Email and Text Message Updates:
Sign up for latest info on concerts, dining, promotions and more!
Go!

Reader's Picks

Top Recommendations

A short list of Kansas City's most popular hot spots.
user content provided by: LikeMe.net & The Pitch

National Features >

  • SF Weekly

    Turning the Tables

    "Hey, Mr. Deejay: Bend over and spread 'em."

    By Lois Beckett

  • City Pages

    Big Farma

    Meet the Minnesotans who receive federal subsidies for not growing anything.

    By Matt Snyders

  • Village Voice

    Rent-a-Wreck

    We begin our countdown of New York's Ten Worst Landlords.

    By Elizabeth Dwoskin

  • Broward-Palm Beach New Times

    The Grow House Murder

    The sweet smell of ganja was a dead giveaway. So was the dead body in the freezer.

    By Gail Shepherd

The Liquid Kids

Random Acts of Silence
(Zero Age Media)

Share

  • rss

By Jason Harper

Published on November 24, 2009 at 2:07pm

Spilling over with teen-rock honesty and ambitious musical ideas, this debut from Salina, Kansas, quartet the Liquid Kids is worthy of an A — for effort. Things are bold and brassy on opener "Choke, Heimlich, Cough," which begins with a raspy giggle from singer Jessica Lewis, followed by a dose of introspective wordplay that will prove to be her signature style: It was quite dark/The thing that I thought of/The place where my mind placed my-seeelf. On that last, stretched syllable, her boys kick in with guitar, drum and bass in lockstep, sawing through a power-chord progression made for alt-rock radio. Unfortunately, it's one of the few moments on Random Acts of Silence when singer and band feel like part of the same act. Though the Liquid Kids come so, so close to nailing a solid mainstream sound — hard-edged pop-rock in the vein of bands such as Anberlin and Saving Abel — their approach is just too runny. Despite a few fumble-fingered lead-guitar licks, the band is tight and hard charging. But the instrumental parts rarely coalesce with Lewis' vocal lines, which vacillate between sing-speaking and a caterwaul that occasionally wavers off pitch. Not until the end of the record does the group find its footing, with the focused and savage "External Frustration," followed by the short, intricate and lovely "Infinite." If these last two tracks are a preview of the next Liquid Kids' album, it'll definitely be a contender.