by Mark Simms   
Thu:08-Feb-07
Cold War Kids
Robbers & Cowards
by: Mark Simms
Thu:08-Feb-07
Label: V2
Year: 2007
WB rating
78
out of 100


Review
I’m not exactly sure which direction the stage is in. But, I do know that my body is rubbing up against a couple of hundred others that want nothing more than to get closer and closer to the front – wherever that may be. These other bodies wriggle and squirm like pigs trying to get to the trough. Despite the lack of oxygen, these people are not even slightly worried about dehydration or potential suffocation; no one gets drunk or they’ll lose their spot.

It seems this band won’t hold anything back – that they would send you home saturated in sweat; tired, hungry and dehydrated.

But here’s the thing – I’m not actually at a Cold War Kids gig.

As the noisy, messy sounds of scratchy roots-guitar, crowded percussion and Nathan Willett’s raw and unique voice release an uncontrolled energy, Robbers & Cowards makes you feel like you’re there, sweating among the young and limber.

As frantic as the music of Cold War Kids is, Robbers & Cowards is essentially a collection of stories. These stories tell of people in bad situations – people who desire change but are powerless to bring it.

‘We Used To Vacation’ is a drunk’s confession of how he neglects his family and how he is a victim of his addiction: “Beth’s recital I had to run/missed my son’s graduation.” A repetitious and catchy tune consisting of the rock staples (piano, drums, bass) and shakers sounding like rattlesnakes, acts as the moody backdrop to Willett’s desperate voice. He sings as if he is the drunkard, caught by feelings of guilt and yet in a helpless situation, as he tries to rationalise: “Still things could be much worse/natural disasters, on the evening news.” Despite the desire to give it all up, our protagonist lacks the willpower or strength to fight the addiction that enslaves him.

The music then stops, and changes, as the man confesses it would be so easy to just give in to alcohol and disappear: “I promised to my wife and children/I’d never touch another drink as long as long as I live/But even then it sounds so soothing to mix a gin and sink into oblivion.” When the guitar comes in it sounds wild and all over the place just like this man’s addiction – the guitarist sounds like he is fighting with his instrument.

‘Passing The Hat’ is the tale of a man stealing money from the offering hat at church, looking for easy answers and easy money so that he can leave everything behind. A dark mood is created by deep and raw sounds of bass, guitar and drums as ‘Passing The Hat’ continues the feeling of a doomed situation. This is an act that someone wouldn’t do unless they were really desperate, and Willett guides us through the mind of a person who has found themself in that place.

These are the not the usual type of people that one would sympathise with or feel sorry for, but Willett sings in a way that says there is hope for all. He sings from their perspective and his voice makes them sound full of sorrow and regret. The people in the songs of Robbers & Cowards are all in miserable situations that they cannot get out of – despite their attempts.

‘Saint John’ tells of a man who sits on death row because he killed someone trying to rape his sister. All he can do now, just like everyone with him, is sit and wait for it all to end – and get lost in his thoughts: “All us boys down on death row/we just waiting for a pardon/Yours truly, on trial/I testify.” ‘Saint John’ sounds like something straight out of the American deep South in the ‘60s. The bass, crashing percussion and erratic tempo is complemented by Willett, who sounds as if he’s in a church leading an imaginary choir.

The music of Cold War Kids mixes these sounds of the South, high energy folk-rock and the passion of kids rehearsing in a garage after school – thrashing instruments and just getting lost in it all.

In ‘Robbers’, the pace eases up and Willett sings slowly and painfully – his voice reminiscent of Jeff Buckley – documenting the suffering and inner torment of a would-be bandit: “Robbing from the blind is not easy, you see.” A criminal is uncared for, but Willett paints this man as someone who doesn’t do it because he is a bad person; but simply because he is commanded to.

In Robbers & Cowards, the narrative lyrics and the raw intensity of Cold War Kids fuse together to create an energetic and surprisingly rich debut album.






 
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