Water Liars

Water Liars sound like the exact moment the sun disappears behind a hill, leaving the world in a cold, blue-grey half-light. Their music is built on the chemistry between Justin Kinkel-Schuster’s high, vulnerable tenor and Andrew Bryant’s grounded, intuitive percussion. It is Americana stripped of its polished Nashville sheen, replaced by the grit of a Mississippi milltown and the hiss of a single-microphone recording session.

What makes them distinctive is the 'sludge' that occasionally creeps into their folk-pop structures. They aren't afraid of a little distortion or a drum beat that feels heavy and tired, mirroring the emotional weight of lyrics that dwell on mortality, regret, and the slow decay of small-town life. It is music that feels lived-in, like a favorite denim jacket that’s starting to fray at the cuffs.

Start with 'Wyoming' if you want to hear them at their most cohesive and haunting. If you prefer something more primitive and spontaneous, their debut 'Phantom Limb' captures the magic of two musicians discovering a shared language in real-time, complete with the beautiful imperfections of a room-mic recording.