Yahoo! Music Review

Released on 06/02/07
Label: V2

UK music fans are probably feeling a little like the Yanks at the tail end of Britpop, faced with a gaggle of similar-ish bands, drawing the same background experiences and the same influences. In their case, The Kinks, Small Faces and The Beatles have been supplanted by Pavement, Sonic Youth, Spoon and The Walkmen. Of course, better that than the current state of UK guitar rock, where, if your ideals weren't scrubbed clean by the Brit School, then you sound like a third generation Libertines (or, if you're The Kooks, then you're a little bit of both) but there is an overwhelming sense of familiarity creeping in to US left-field guitar rock, even if it doesn't necessarily lead to outright contempt.

Riding the now well-surfed wave of online hyperbole and some choice performances at SXSW, Cold War Kids appear to be the latest indie kids on the block. Their modus operandi is simple: summon up a killer riff - on a guitar, a piano, or whatever else is to hand - and run with it ad finitum while frontman Nathan Willet's takes flights of fancy with his brutally atonal voice.

It's a trick they repeat consistently on their debut album, and one they pull off astonishingly well on tracks one to three. The discordant six-string salvo on opener "We Used To Vacation" instantly pricks ears, before the foreboding chorus - "I promise to my wife and children, I'll never touch another drop as long as I'll live…" - threatens to breaks hearts. A jerky piano drops loudly into the mix, while the drummer embarks on some DIY in the background. The fantastic single, "Hang Me Up To Dry", shuffles almost funkily and, again, nails a killer chorus, while "Tell Me In The Morning" rides a mammoth guitar riff, apparently borrowed from Lou Reed circa 1967.

Unfortunately, this brilliance is not sustained, and, wise to their strategy, we're soon hitting a midway lull. Throwing the kitchen sink at every tune suddenly seems like musical overload, not to mention a bit contrived, although the drunken shanty "Saint John" and "Hospital Beds" still manage to shine through. The latter, at last, produces some empty spaces for the instruments to weave around and for Willet's surreal vocal about "Vietnam fishing trips" and "Italian opera" to breathe.

But for all its intriguing sonic twists, too much of "Robbers & Cowards" hits the button marked overindulgence - as if Cold War Kids are trying to crowbar their every waking thought and every idea to tape. This is not necessarily a bad thing, and occasionally it's inspired, but overall the listener is left with a nagging sense of déjà vu that: a) we've been here before with another college rock band; and b) we it will take a second album before we know whether true greatness is within them.

    by Adam Webb