A Live review for LARECORD.COM:
The long queue outside was crazy cold to get in to see Cold Cave. This 4 foot tall girl in front of me was totally trashed, weaving and wobbling, while her guy friends inhaled a parade of cigarettes, discussed Deuce Bigalow, past episodes of the Simpsons and their favorite LA weed dispensary…I shit you not. Once inside, the familiar funk throb of a Part Time Punks obscuro minimal synth jam got the heart beating as anticipation rose for what promised to be an interesting evening of music. Tim Burgess of The Charalatans fame was guest DJing the evening, along with PTP regulars Michael and Ben. Their music selections were rarified, electronic ingots of pleasure, most of which would probably fetch serious coin on Ebay.
Nite Jewel began their performance and it really sounded alright, but Ramona and Emily seemed unable to hear themselves onstage and begin directing the sound man to tweak this and turn up such and such E.Q. level between almost every song, which kind of dispelled the magic of their performance frankly, especially since it sounded fine to the audience in the first place. Their frustrations were channeled inward and the set vastly improved as they found their rhythm and a new song was debuted. “What Did He Say” was delivered with a cool confidence, the closest thing to a hit in the Nite Jewel songbook. Processed sounds went warm and analog tones trickled into an amateurish charm of lustful regression, a bass thumped, vocals trilled and Ramona declared “ I really am enjoying myself…seriously.”
Cold Cave cut an arresting image upon the Echo stage. Three full size, beautiful synths featured front and center, including a Moog and an Arp 2600. Wes Eisold, Dominick Fernow (Prurient) and Caralee McElroy (Xiu Xiu) were clad in black attire with a striking intensity and stillness. The approach was succinct and precise, dance music at once beautiful and aggressive, lulling and pounding. Audience communication was minimal, as was the music, and righteously so. Their sound was reminiscent of early New Order gone digital and distorted. Lyrically direct and existential, they sang of isolation, uncertainty and angst. My friend remarked that their sound reminded him of early “Being Boiled” Human League. The crowd was mesmerized and moved to dancing, no small feat in Los Angeles. Songs like Love Comes Close and Cebe And Me were broken down to their basic elements, delivered with an iceflow of synth-waves and just enough sunlight to cast a shadow. The brevity of Cold Cave’s set definitely left you wanting more, not to be greedy. Their jubilant brand of gloom was fitting for the evening that brought the first winter rain that sunny Los Angeles has experienced in a long while.
Eyad Karkoutly
