Send me your track

Wednesday
Aug192009

Cold Cave - Love Comes Close

COLD CAVE - LOVE COMES CLOSE (Heartworm Press)


Wesley Eisold made his name with American hardcore bands, but has recently released a number of lo-fi synthpop records, this being the closest one could call an album. Given the warmth that many in America have with the early 80’s output of bands such as New Order and Depeche Mode, it’s not surprising that the link between hardcore punk and the analogue starkness of electropop is bridged more often than many think.

“Love Comes Close” doesn’t many any bones about its aesthetic, which is rooted in the minor-key dominated arena of synthpop, but is given warmth and power by Eisold’s remarkable voice. It hovers somewhere near the arresting timbre of Brian Eno during “Another Green World” and Jarvis Cocker’s deadpan delivery. A tribute then, but done with enough insouciance to warrant your attention.

The distorted and somewhat stark “Cebe and Me” opens the album, guest vocalist Caralee McElroy barely audible above static noise. This is contrasted by the ghost of New Order appearing on the title track, but it’s almost so blatant that you don’t actually care, with the shrill indie guitars aping Bizarre Love Triangle era to the point where you’re half expecting to hear Peter Hook’s bass rumble through. “Life Magazine” recalls Suicide-era synths, but is helped by McElroy’s joyful delay-enhanced vocals. The album’s centrepice is the short, arresting “Laurels of Erotomania”, which is given immense warmth by Eisold’s fantastic voice, the refrain “We will make history…I don’t know why” lacing proceedings with a poppy disposable feeling. Eisold makes his vocal talents once again felt with a haunting presence on the 2 minute excerpt of “Hello Rats”, and album closer “I.C.D.K” completes matters with a sound that recalls Cluster and Eno.

At just over 30 minutes, “Love Comes Close” is a short, but ultimately joyous romp through nostalgia and self-obsessed teenage narcissism. Once you get over the blatant nods to various English synth acts, there’s enough hooks and lyrics here to satisfy an album twice the length. Although I’m uneasy in giving plaudits to acts that revel in revisiting the musical past, Eisold’s voice in particular carries an idiosyncratic charm that disarms any cynicism I might have had.

Toby Frith

 

 

Reader Comments

There are no comments for this journal entry. To create a new comment, use the form below.

PostPost a New Comment

Enter your information below to add a new comment.

My response is on my own website »
Author Email (optional):
Author URL (optional):
Post:
 
Some HTML allowed: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <code> <em> <i> <strike> <strong>
« The Caretaker - Persistent Repitition of Phrases | Main | Break SL - City Wasteland »