By Chris Varias
The Cincinnati Enquirer

In the big picture, it was a showcase of two of New York's most buzzed-about indie-rock bands.

But within the Sunday-night performance raged a battle between two lead singers over who could out-shoulder-shimmy, out-self-spank, and generally out-sass the other.

The double bill of the Yeah Yeah Yeahs and the Liars at the Southgate House was a sellout, another opportunity like appearances in recent months by the Strokes and the White Stripes to catch up-and-coming bands before they crossed over to a bigger market. And like those shows before, this one didn't disappoint.

If Chicago was the rock-underground epicenter of the `90s, New York, or more specifically Brooklyn, is today's. Great bands keep pouring out of there, and the Yeah Yeah Yeahs and the Liars are two more, thanks in great part to Karen O and Angus Andrew.

Karen O, the YYY's lead singer, set the tone for the band, spitting out such readymade, down-and-dirty downtown coinages as "Be my lover, we can do it to each other."

Rounded out by drummer Brian Chase and guitarist Nick Zinner, the band whipped through a 40-minute set that included material from a five-song EP recently re-released on Touch and Go Records.

If the EP comes off as a little thin-sounding, the performance brought it to life, powered by Karen O's full-on synthesis of the street-punk and sex-kitten personae.

By the time Mr. Zinner strummed the opening chord to the encore tune "Our Time," it was clear the Yeah Yeah Yeahs were triumphant. Any group that can re-write "Crimson and Clover" and have a crowd eating out of its hand is either good or simply fortunate to be the de facto band-of-the-moment.

The Liars' 30-minute set was just as entertaining and way more rocking, punctuated by a jerky-funk sound. The bass player was key, and so was Mr. Andrew. The lanky Australian-born singer's act was Iggy Pop-light - banging a microphone against his chest and climbing the precariously stacked Southgate House amplifier cabinets at stage left.

When he wrapped the microphone chord around his neck a half-dozen times and quietly breathed the mantra, "We came to destroy Kentucky," everybody in the crowd seemed to take him at his word.

E-mail: cvarias@enquirer.com