The Lies use ugly music to give expression to ugly, ugly feelings. Like Joy Division, who are clearly this latter-day gothic new wave band's biggest inspiration, the Lies invert punk by turning its rage inward and pointing it toward the deep pit in the neglected child's soul. Check the song titles: "We All Bleed Red," "Shotgun Method," "Add Insult to Injury"; if Lies frontman Dale Shaw wears black on the outside, you can bet it's because black is how he feels inside. And what about you, buddy? Inside and out, how much darkness you got? Because black is the litmus test here. For those of you with a coal-lined interior who aren't above the occasional turtleneck, the Lies just might be for you.

Musically, the Lies mostly vibe on the minimalist thing: one choppy, dissonant lead guitar mixed way up front, metallic, tuneless vocals barking in the middle, and a crumb-laden bed of cheap synthesizers and boxy drums coating the bottom. It's a sound as filthy and disgusting as the floor of an adult arcade, and as amateurish as Sonic Youth's Confusion is Sex as interpreted by homeless winos. There's an impressive rawness achieved here by way of a Stooges "bang bang life sucks bang" nihilism, but unfortunately, the sound varies little, and after 40 minutes of this strum-and-drang, the desired darkcore effect is more comical than frightening.

It's when the Lies mix things up a bit that they're at their most appealing, as when Tracy Sawyer leads with her ethereal vocals on "Jump Ship," giving a sublime effect not unlike vintage Galaxie 500. The other standout is the piano-driven "Aphelion," which features dueling violins whose out-of-tune drone will tell you which fillings in your mouth need replacing. But beyond this small handful of cuts, Underdogs and Infidels is merely routine music to bleed to death by.

-Mark Richard-San