event - liars at heaven, london

11th november

Though he's probably better known for working with the likes of Yellow Swans, Wolf Eyes and Merzbow, it's interesting to hear John Wiese's disarming sounds on their own, freed from the full-on noise of his collaborators. He hovers over a range of unsettling images for the first half of the set, punctuating his layered frequencies with the smashing of glass and the shaking of prison doors. It's intense without being overbearing, and quite uncomfortable to hear in a live setting. The attention to detail is the really impressive thing, with Wiese often bringing motifs back into the mix as he heads towards a wild and clamorous finish, pulsing and rattling through laptop-generated waves.

Sian Alice Group are something of a break from a harsher opening slot, and they play gorgeous, edgy pop with subtly forceful instrumentation and just a hint of darkness. Sian Ahern isn't a naturally possessing stage presence, but her voice is strong and she has no problem holding the higher notes. They play a dreamy collection of songs that gets a good reception, with some interesting riffs and drum patterns, but it's only at the end where the instrumental finish verges on post-rock that they really impress.

Liars are visibly comfortable playing live, giving a well-balanced set that, more than half a year down the line, doesn't focus too much on their

recent album Sisterworld. Playing with two extra musicians they are now five, and make enough of a racket to justify it. They start with It Fit When I Was A Kid, one of the singles from Drum's Not Dead, which sets the bar high with its low-key pounding and almost-spoken vocals. They handle its stark outro brilliantly, showing the sensitivity they are capable of. It's in direct contrast to this when they play Loose Nuts on the Veladrome, with its spiky, jagged guitars and unashamedly punk delivery. If anything it gets an even better response just because singer Angus Andrew can throw himself about on stage, the audience soon following suit.

The songs played tonight seem to fall into these two camps. The first is one of tribal drums,

ghostly vocals and humming, chiming guitars, drawn largely from Drum's Not Dead. The other is an unhinged, twisted noise rock that creeps towards anthemic, taking reference points from every stage in their colourful back catalogue. Angus seems comfortable with anything, jumping around with the frenetic crowd during a raucous version of Scarecrows on a Killer Slant, but showing a gentle touch for The Other Side of Mt. Heart Attack. For an album that's had a slightly mixed reception, it's amazing how well the songs from Sisterworld slot into the set, though Liars could make even the most average music sound exciting live.

During the encore the band play as a three piece again, returning to the stage one by one. An extended version of the eerie and actually quite alarming Be Quiet Mt. Heart Attack! is followed by Broken Witch, the epic opener from They Were Wrong So We Drowned that is equal parts punk and no wave. These are the highlights of the concert, but that's not to criticise the touring musicians – it's just that Liars' music relies on energy and creativity as much as instrumental complexity. Luckily we get all three tonight.

event - london openframe 2010: day one at café oto

4th November

This year's OpenFrame marks ten years of ROOM40, the Brisbane-based label led by composer and sound artist Lawrence English. The festival arrived in London for the first time last year, and this time is taking a few stops up and down the country. Tonight there are three performances from a range of collaborators with the label.

Primarily a drummer, Italy's Andrea Belfi wires

cold ambient in and out of his sparse, dry rhythms. Neither component dominates the sound, instead they ring around each other with thudding precision. His approach is improvisational, drawing subtle changes from his synthesizers on one hand, and from his careful assembly of percussion on the other. His otherworldly metal discs are intertwined with microphones and stranger metal objects still, foregrounding the hazy kick-drums. The entirety of his short set is an exercise in looping, the sounds he makes tangibly being fed into his electronics. The overall effect is one of calming balance.

Next up is a rare performance from David Toop + Scanner + I/O3, the last itself being a group comprising Lawrence English, Tam Patton and Heinz Riegler. Having five musicians on stage is something of a shock after

Belfi's quiet and restrained performance, but they don't compete for space. They use their different talents to bring in an incredible palette of sounds, as showcased on their album A Picturesque View, Ignored. Sometimes David Toop leads at the front of the sound, pouring what look like seeds from a jar into a tiny dish, shaking them with precise movements. At other times it's Scanner, pitched at the front, who responds to this heady mixture with methodical glee, looping and sampling with his novel array of tabletop instruments. Lawrence English's spacious, wavelike sounds form a considered backdrop to the onstage dialogue, giving a constance to the piece. Trip-hop beats emerge from time to time, as do Toop's electronic flute, which he nonchalantly picks up from time to time. Towards the end guitarist Heinz Riegler injects some more obvious emotion into a performance that, while not exactly studied, is never overwrought.

Chris Abrahams' solo piano performance comes in three parts, getting progressively more interesting. It begins with lush, unwinding melodic cycles reminiscent of Philip Glass, which cascade gracefully up and

down the keyboard of the baby grand before falling on a single note. This note is played out for the middle part of the performance, testing out different tempos and rhythms, conjuring up different notes in the ear of the listener as the intensity varies, but resting ultimately on this one note. It takes great skill to come across like a virtuoso on the basis of one piano key, but with careful control over the intensity with which he plays, and the creation of complex rhythms Chris Abrahams gets away with it. Moments after reaching an incredible speed, more and more notes start to return, and the performance culminates in a cacophony of dirge-like minimalism. It's mesmerising and overwhelming, and a great shame when it's over.

event - ariel pink's haunted graffiti at hoxton square bar and kitchen, london

2nd november

Ariel Rosenburg has had, and probably still has difficult time playing live. His musical beginnings are far from the kind you'd expect to be workable in a live setting, having been in isolation when recording most of his output, and his solo concerts as Ariel Pink were by all accounts pretty challenging. It's no surprise then that since signing to 4AD last year with his full band Ariel Pink's Haunted Graffiti he's come a long way. What's interesting though is how much of his personality and his refusal to conform shine through. He's charismatic and sometimes charming but he's also awkward and at times set on making the crowd feel the same way.

Intended to be a secret fan show, tonight's show was organised at the last minute to mark the end of his European tour, and still makes heavy use of recent album Before Today. It's a blessing in disguise, as his newer songs stand up to his earlier work without relying too heavily on Ariel's instrumentals. They begin with Bright Lit Blue Skies, first performed by the Rockin' Ramrods in 1966, but a great example of Ariel's ability to channel the past. His voice is deep and soulful, but with enough irreverence to remind us that this isn't the real thing. It's a lot more fun than that.

After just one track he has a problem with his microphone, worried that the 'echo thing' isn't prominent enough, and has to navigate his way through the crowd to the mixing desk where he has a quiet word with the sound man. On returning, he checks to see that this echo thing is working, and happily his voice is now subject to lengthy delay in spite of

the band's tight and funky backup. They play a fair few from the new album, including a great version of Friday Night (Nevermore). His ability to write fantastic, psychedelic pop music doesn't feel like any kind of compromise from the less structured focused sounds of his bedroom experiments. It's the best of both worlds, and he seems to be having a good time, temporarily abandoning his contrarian stage persona to declare: "it's time for some French kissing". He lives up to his promise and I don't see a single boy or girl in the crowd – just previously heralded by Pink as a 'bunch of poseurs' – do anything to refuse his bizarre advances.

They close the set with lead single Round and Round, one of the year's catchiest songs, and rare among his

catalogue in that it tightens that gulf between dancey and actually danceable. A few people try their best amidst the four-part harmonies of the chorus, and when it's over the band retreat to the side of the small stage to cries for an encore. After a beer and perhaps a little bit of haunted graffiti they come back for a trio of songs that ends with For Kate I Wait, a highlight from The Doldrums. It was originally recorded on 8-track, but is unharmed by a four-piece band treatment. In fact, it's probably the best song of the night.