Friday, October 27, 2006

Cold War Kids

Show Season, can't stop won't stop.

The Cold War Kids blew the roof off DC9 last night with their LA blend of gospel punk. It was electric.

I wasn't going to go to this show. I mean, you gotta draw the line somewhere, right? Wrong. Peer pressure is a bitch.

Luckily, I had three cups of loose change on my dresser just itching to be dumped into one of those CoinStar Machines. Wednesday night, I walked in to the local Harris Teeter with an ass pile of change, and I walked out with enough cash for a show. At least it's not heroin.

Fiscal irresponsibility and absent backbone notwithstanding, I made the right decision. To see a band on the verge of hugeness play a dive bar cranny is what indie fandom is all about. The Cold War Kids rocked - that's all you gotta say.

The first song might have been the best. Singer Nathan Willet slumped over the mic like a blanket, moaning Son House gospel while Matt Maust thumped a spare bass at field holler tempo. The set picked up from there for an hour and half of bluesy punk wailing.

By far, the highlight was Willet's voice. I tell you what buddy, that man can sang. Whether shrieking Black Crows ballads or rasping Detroit scuzz, his voice muscled its way into indie rock lore.

Do yourself a favor - check these guys out if you haven't already. They're here to stay.


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