Cold War Kids

The carpet’s sticky and the atmosphere sumptuously warm, man, it’s good to be back at The Enmore. One would assume that they are in for a more relaxed gig when the middle barrier is nowhere to be seen, yet as a bellow parr crowd assembles in this art deco music mecca to witness the soulful stylings of californian troubadours Cold War Kids, the mood is surprisingly upbeat.

Promising to play lots of new material with this summer tour, the boys lumbered onto the stage to rapturous applause and launched straight into two new songs, a big risk that didn’t pay off as the crowd did not really know how to react. But as they followed this with sprawling hymn Mexican Dogs, the crowd were instantly pleased.

Knocking off perennial favourite Hang Me Up To Dry early could also be seen as a big risk, but they sure did get away with it this time, with every single member of the audience singing along with absolute aplomb. Although one could be forgiven for thinking lead singer Nathan Willett to be a tad full of himself as he did not let the audience sing along with him, somewhat of a cardinal sin for a lead singer of his stature. However, WIllett can get away with whatever he wants with that voice. Easily the best white soul voice in the business since Jeff Buckley, it pervades the auditorium with such irrecusable ease.

Watching these boys perform you can tell that they have been together for a long, long time, with bassist Matt Maust and guitarist Jonnie Russell playfully running around the stage bumping and kicking each other as well as Willett. Add drummer Matt Averio to the mix and they all have an intrinsic connection to one another, seemingly communicating with one another without uttering a single word.

In a set that comprised almost three quarters of new songs, I began to worry about the direction that the kids appear to be heading. The rough, textured and sporadic sounds of the first two albums have made way to a more anthemic, reverberous and dare I say, stadium filling sound. This isn’t just exclusive to the musicality of their works either, WIllett’s lyricism appears to have reached a more, for lack of a better word, happy, style. In their debut and sophomore albums, Willet maundered of suicide jumpers, broken families and other tales of the misfortunate, yet now he urges us that he “can feel your arms around me, pull me closer, hold me tightly” and that “from now I fly as I want”, completely disregarding the character and soul that made his earlier lyrics so appealing.

Finally hitting their stride in their encore, the kids had the crowd eating out of their hands during rambling chant Saint John and the tragic We Used To Vacation, both representing fine indictments of their true abilities.

So as the lights turn up and the time to leave arrives, I begin to wonder as to the success of the Cold War Kids' potential venture into stadiumhood. The volatile nature of the market they appear to be treading into combined with the fact that hell hath no fury like an old fan scorned could mean that rough waters are ahead. However, they haven’t exactly shot themselves in the foot just yet, but the gun is out of the holster.

Share this review on Facebook