Cold War Kids were one of the better, more accomplished graduates of the indie class of the mid-2000s. Their 2006 debut, ‘Robbers & Cowards’, was organised, banging and crashing chaos; pots and pans seemingly took the place of conventional instruments while time signatures and structures were fussed over and fed through a shredder. ‘Dear Miss Lonelyhearts’ is their fourth studio record – amidst a prolific EP output – and it retains the carefully gnarled tone of their previous efforts. Second offering ‘Loyalty To Loyalty’ was darker, more heavy with what the band wanted to say; this time around, they’re far enough into the game to be relatively free of playing up to any expectations. They don’t have to prove themselves. Let’s hope they don’t assume that means they don’t have to put any effort in though, eh? We’d rather not have an album of metaphorical farts into a microphone.
Cold War Kids have always been relaxed about expressing their influences; they’re at their most compelling when they show off the weirder stuff. The Tom Waits-invoking hurly-burly and the darkness of Modest Mouse have both been relevant for the Californian band in the past, though in this album’s case, it’s occasionally lighter in prominence. ‘Miracle Mile’ has all the hallmarks of a mainstream lead single. There are very few subtleties here. It’s hearty and loud enough, and Nathan Willett’s torn, pained vocals are at their best when they’re stretched to their frenzied limit. He’s a vocalist of outgoing and expressive intensity; where Mouse’s Isaac Brock is isolated and devilishly lascivious, Willett’s jittery voice – foreboding though it is – reaches out and implores. It contrasts with its musical backdrop to both bizarre and inspired effect on ‘Lost That Easy’, a synth-based track that moulds the beats around Willett until voice and music become stylistically alike. The song itself could have been a massive departure for any other band listed in the same genre group as Cold War Kids, were it not relatively difficult to pin down what it is they do in the first place. It has their ‘sound’; the fact that it’s been put together with different instruments is irrelevant. Overall, it works – it’s a perfectly fine track – though don’t expect it to have as much of an impact as, say, the twisted ‘Hang Me Up To Dry’. ‘Bottled Affection’ isn’t quite so successful; bass and percussion work together effortlessly, as they so often do for Cold War Kids, but it’s perhaps a little too preoccupied with trying to soar, to realise it’s meandering.
‘Loner Phase’ kicks off in a similar way – beeps and blips and infinite echoes – though it dissolves into a more grandiose and cinematic sound than its predecessor. The guitars, simultaneously distant and intrusive, are a key element in the band’s repertoire, and here they’re particularly (beautifully) imposing. They’ve got a new recruit on the instrument, in the shape of former Modest Mouse axeman Dann Gallucci; his job history is reflected in the album’s darker moments. ‘Fear And Trembling’ employs a subtle, surfer rock riff in the background, set to rolling percussion – also seen in the minimalist (dull) title track and the Stadium Concert Encore in the making that is ‘Water And Power’ – that represents a more calculated sense of foreboding (the heaviness of the drums is carried over to ‘Tuxedos’, a quirky and wistful protege of the Aimee Mann-esque, optimistic-heartbreak kind of song). It kicks off as the final third appears – to call Cold War Kids’ music ‘cacophonous’ would be daft, they’re far too nice for that – but they’ve always been precise with their production and the walls of sound they create usually verge on anthemic (see also: the final quarter of closer ‘Bitter Poem’).
The thing about ‘Dear Miss Lonelyhearts’ is that, expertly-constructed and LOUD though it is, it doesn’t really do much. It’s not so much a case of all build-up and no pay-off; to be perfectly honest, it remains at one level throughout most of the album. It has maturity in spades, though perhaps emotional warmth eludes it; obviously that needn’t be a negative, since some of the greatest albums of all time know NOTHING of human emotion, but y’know – this isn’t one of the greatest albums of all time. As it is, it’s a rather good album from the Cold War Kids. And that’s really all we ask for.
7bitarcade - Archive 