By: David Schultz
Photo Credit: "Joy and Misery"

From the time they released their first EP, Cold War Kids have found themselves warmly embraced by the ever-critical network of music blogs that are always on the hunt for the next big thing. You would be hard pressed to find a band that would willingly thumb their nose at the effusive praise the blogosphere can generate but while the benefits can be tremendous, lurking underneath is a knotty conundrum. In the new wired community, a band can, and often does, amass a fervent and outspoken fan base long before the mainstream catches on. What’s a band to do while waiting for the rest of the world to get on board? If they continue on with the same songs and stage show that originally got them noticed, they risk incurring the wrath of their current fans who will grumble about the band getting stale and, if they have short attention spans, abruptly move on. On the other hand, if they evolve too quickly, newer fans never get exposed to the experience that generated the buzz in the first place and are left wondering what the big fuss was ever about.

A cerebral and thoughtful band, the Cold War Kids have created the blueprint on how to traverse this relatively uncharted territory. About a year and a half ago, I was turned on to the CWK by a friend (who will love this acknowledgment of his role and likely never let me forget it now that it’s in print) and first saw them in the summer of 2006 when they opened a Tapes ‘n Tapes headlined indie-rock bill at the Bowery Ballroom. Cramming two hours worth of energy into a half hour set, bassist Matt Maust and guitarist Jonnie Russell prowled the stage like angry bulls and drummer Matt Aviero pounded everything within his reach all while lead singer Nathan Willett channeled Joe Cocker’s singing style. Since that initial exposure to Biola University’s most rockin’ if not most identifiable alumni, they’ve made New York City home to a dual coast winter residency, turned in a “destination” set at SXSW, returned to the Bowery Ballroom as a headliner for three sold-out shows over a long Easter weekend and made their Madison Square Garden debut opening for Muse. Each time I’ve seen them, I’ve been struck with how they’ve matured as a band and grown as performers without losing one iota of the earnest zeal that make their exciting live shows so fulfilling.

Having outgrown the Bowery Ballroom, the Cold War Kids moved into the roomier Webster Hall for a pair of shows this past weekend. The grander stage afforded them the ability to spread out and resulted in drummer Matt Aviero sitting perched upon a raised drum kit set back a bit from the action. In an effort to counteract the loss of intimacy unavoidable in larger rooms, the Kids played the majority of their show with muted lighting, preferring to let the music, not their personas, fill the space. With recorded chatter playing over the speakers, they walked onto the stage in complete darkness, easing into “Pregnant.” The lights slowly brightened as the languid and dreamy version of the song unfolded. For “Robbers,” they once again worked in the dark, using only three flashlights for illumination. In directing the high powered beams into the audience they created a spectral mood that perfectly captured the song’s uneasy noirish undercurrent. Poet Derrick Brown also lent a hand: his cadence and wordplay a natural and seamless extension of the Cold War Kids’ literate leanings.

Playing before a gigantic banner incorporating Matt Maust’s collage-style artwork, the Kids delivered patient and unhurried versions of “We Used To Vacation,” “Passing The Hat” and “Hospital Beds.” Their measured performance lacked the manic randomness that normally accompanies their shows. Noticeably, Maust and Russell seemed to reign themselves in. They didn’t lose any of their passion. However, they weren’t engaging in their customary headlong reckless romps across the stage. Rather than a sign of laziness, I think it demonstrates a growing maturity and a desire to focus on the music.

Speaking of music, as they always do, the Cold War Kids delivered. Keeping things fresh, they went well beyond Robbers & Cowards, their spectacular debut release and their ninety minute set breezed by all too quickly. They tipped their hat to their past by touching on “Don’t Let Your Love Grow Away From Me,” acknowledged the present with the soulful “Every Valley Is Not A Lake” and offered a glimpse of the future with a number of new songs that ranged from the U2 sounding “Dreams Old Men Dream” and “Look Out For Love” to the set-closing Velvet Underground tinged “Something Is Wrong With Me.” Willett, who can channel Randy Newman’s drawl, Sam Cooke’s soul and, in a less gruff manner, Tom Waits’ matter-of-fact whiskey-soaked piano troubadour, added Bono style crooning to his list of accomplishments.

The Cold War Kids are walking the tightrope between their old and new fans with the grace and skill of a Flying Wallenda, rapidly moving forward without forgetting what got them to this point. Whether it be Russell wailing away with a maraca on a solitary cymbal placed on a wooden table through “We Used To Vacation,” Maust sending the audience into a frenzy with the opening bass line of “Hang Me Out To Dry” or the now traditional emptying of the backstage area for a calamitous run through “Saint John,” the Cold War Kids are perpetuating their own mythology at the same rate at which they’re creating it.

Labels: Cold War Kids, Live Reviews