Liliput
(Kleenex/Kill Rock Stars) Someone ever save your life tonight, Sugar Bear? Only to disappear in the night, leaving you sated, fulfilled, yet drenched and terribly confused? Well, finding an early-Eighties Liliput single — let alone an album, let alone a hint of their baby days as the pre-Eighties, Swiss-punk pop band Kleenex — was a similar encounter with a blessed angel. Such are the pursuits of love, lust, and indie rock salvation. A lucky few on this side of the pond savored the warbly, riotous staccato of woman-powered, agit-scratched Liliput, whose mysterious contribution to the history of rock & roll, while rich in influence and significance, remained, for the most part, relegated to the bins of obscurity. It seemed their chirpy, cheerleading siren spirit, akin to contemporaries the Slits and Raincoats, and their somber growl, not unlike that of pals Red Krayola and Gang of Four, would remain doomed, frozen in time — a shame of a fate for a band responsible for at least a smidge of the zygote action that resulted in so many riot grrrls to come. Kill Rock Stars deserves a big fat smooch for re-issuing this 2-CD compilation of the band’s entire recorded treasures, which upon its original European-only mid-Nineties release was snatched up as quickly as it hit shelves. Featuring engaging and informative liner notes, delirious cover art, ample pictures of a band previously unseen, and music that was surely heaven sent, this is one sweet, near-perfect deal.
This article appears in December 14 • 2001.