Liquid Nails in conjunction with Psychedelic Salad Records have released their second album Suburban Timetable. We could struggle for words, but why bother when close friend of the band Richie Cuskelly (of 208l Containers) can put it so much better:
“Liquid Nails are from Nipaluna/Hobart. One of them has grandchildren, another no children, and another children but no grandchildren. This fact is relevant to us-we-the listener, but only subconsciously. They have two albums: one they couldn’t be bothered naming (2022) and now Suburban Timetable (2024). If the self-titled is Liquid Nails’ Local Government (Building and Miscellaneous Provisions) Act 1993 album, then Suburban Timetable is its opposite.
On that first record, Trent openly warned us of proximate issues and privatised spells – mortgage-trauma bonded folk of modern greenfield strata-living or the compromised motivation behind a certain generation’s quick uptake of solar energy (rebate!) to name a couple. But as that enthusiasm’s dropping, other things are soaring higher. On Suburban Timetable, Liquid Nails do away with legislatable specifics and embrace the goth tradition of murky impressions from the POV of an absent god (or God’s Zoo, at most).
These are songs whose purpose is getting across insular emotional tug-o-wars and sceptical abstracts; ones that stem from a chord-striking meme of yesteryear or a current fucked-up oppression (or a combination of the two). It’s possible that Trent wrote them while driving his freight train up and down the island. What’s even more possible is that he didn’t, that he wrote them sitting in front of a cluttered desk or on the toilet. We don’t know, he is a private man (and taller than you’d expect).
Though stirring Killing Joke hooks hang all around, Liquid Nails don’t embrace repetition. Their rhythm section pulses with organic Sleater-Kinney slink rather than blunt industrial force, changing course as often as an exciting medical emergency. (Sir, for the last time, the birthing pools are for the pregnant not the gout-ridden!) Simply, these songs refuse to settle. They stay on their toes and so must we. And on top of it all, an uncanny hint of the Wiggles’ dress sense and all-ages suitability. Even when Trent yells “have some fucking integrity!” it is in quite a warm, comradely fashion – as Ringo Starr might’ve had Thomas the Tank Engine ever released bloopers, or as Garrett should do this moment to Albanese.
Regarding time, we have several final points. One, Suburban Timetable could plausibly originate from 1984, 2004 or 2024. Two, and specifically on its keeping, it’s as if the band sat down together one day and found a nice gold watch to work on – chorused guitar lines the glints of sun off the face, twitching bass and drums the hands beneath the glass. Last, the album’s total length is largely irrelevant because of the lack of exit points. Even the final song can’t shut the valve; it requires we flip the record back over to the start (a Dejected World) like a Tiger snake eating its tail. This is a very singular piece of work.”
This album was written/recorded on the stolen lands of the murlukerdee, lyluequonny and palawa people, sovereignty was never ceded.
Release: October 18th, 2024, Psychedelic Salad Records