On the strength of their incessant and impassioned live shows, along with a string of blog-certified EPs, California’s Cold War Kids were poised to be the next big thing in indie rock.
Then came the backlash.
Following their signing to Gnarls Barkley’s label Downtown Records, the band released their debut LP Robbers & Cowards, which received a four-star review in Rolling Stone. But the music bloggers (and their Bible, Pitchfork) disagreed, adopting a policy of revisionism, and deciding to abandon the act whose praises they had sung. And why, you might ask? Because they finally caught wind of the album’s so-called “veiled evangelism” and apparently hipsters hate Jesus, so any band sans Johnny Cash that incorporates Christian themes must automatically be crucified and relegated to the bowels of blog hell, right alongside Creed.
Despite the Judas’s of the blogosphere, the Cold War Kids have still retained a strong fanbase, many of whom showed up for their free performance on a beautiful summer evening at the Prospect Park Bandshell - a 7,000-capacity outdoor venue deep in the heart of Brooklyn.
Many of the Cold War Kids’ narratives are a bit preachy, and deal with complex issues like alcoholism (“We Used to Vacation”), terminal illness (“Hospital Beds”), and abortion (“Pregnant”), but it’s all done in such a thrilling and catchy manner. And, it’s not like their brand of jangly gospel/indie rock is intended to start converting the heathens to Christianity (they’re not THAT good). They’re catchiest song is still “Hang Me Up to Dry,” which finds front man Nathan Willett in full-on Jeff Buckley mode - his strident and melodic voice reaching heretofore unexpected heights, complemented by angular guitars and off-kilter piano. This vocal ceiling is soon blown to smithereens on the poignant “Hospital Beds,” which sees Willett desperately pleading, “put out the fire on us,” seemingly signaling for a baptism (and with certain anti-war undertones.)
The lion’s share of the Cold War Kids’ new material failed to match the brooding intensity of their debut LP, since most of the songs eschewed jangled guitars and kooky piano play for soft, guitar-strumming ballads - which also neutralized Willet’s powerful pipes.
But when they burst into a fantastic rendition of their best live song, chain-gang stomper “Saint John,” all was forgiven. Joined onstage by opening acts Sam Champion and Elvis Perkins in Dearland, whose members armed themselves with a cornucopia of instruments, including tambourines, drums, and horns, the Kids were clearly preaching to the converted.
Bloggers, I think it’s time for a little détente.
--Marlow Stern
