Cold War Kids

Such was his claim on the song ‘Leningrad’, which I assumed was the unofficial anthem for Cold War Kids and their rallying call each time they’re about to step onstage. Turns out, Nathan Willett and the boys are less soft rock, and more DJs and hard booze. Prior to their return to Australia, Willett ponders the nature of their music, and why maintaining a layer of mystery isn’t as easy as it sounds.

“Billy Joel? I like it. I’ll propose it to the others,” Willett laughs. “We sort of have this unspoken ritual now of hanging out before, listening to some old Rolling Stones. Somebody will be the DJ while the rest of us just hang out and get ready. We’re pretty mellow that way. We’ll just ease into the whole walk-out. So a good DJ and whatever you can drink, that’s nice.”

Cold War Kids released their last album, Hold My Home, back at the end of 2014. The lead single, ‘All This Could Be Yours’, had dropped some months earlier and proved to be a bellwether track for how the band had been developing since Dear Miss Lonelyhearts the year before. Critics hailed it as a sign the Californian indie rockers were at the top of their game, but when the next single, ‘First’, made it to the number one spot on Billboard’s alternative chart, even the band was surprised. Now Willett is focused on putting the lessons learned in that time into perspective, and hoping there will be new material ready to showcase in Australia.

“There’s a small chance we’ll have a couple of new songs ready in time,” he says. “I really hope that we can, because the new stuff we’re working on is really strong. I think I have a vision for what we’re doing like never before. I think the success of ‘First’ taught me a lot about how to keep all these artistic elements. Even the lyrics to that song are a little bit messy; they’re not straightforward, not linear, though the song itself is quite straightforward, it’s a pop song.

“I think sometimes ambiguity can be powerful. I don’t know, I think very often people are reading their personal lives into our lyrics, and we’re a band that’s managed to lay low enough where nobody really knows that much about us. And that really is the best thing, because you let the song speak for itself. I think I’ve learned that this is what we do well, and let’s try to hone in on that.”

Willett’s lyrics have long been the stuff of intense discussion among fans, and that’s exactly the way that he prefers these songs be received; the artist distanced, the song left to fend for itself. It’s a sentiment shared by many writers, yet it also speaks of a dying breed of artist. The world today allows little opportunity for art to flourish without being chained to endless self-promotion.

“It’s hard to think of an example contrary to that,” Willett says. “I mean, look at Kafka. He died before anyone read a story of him, and he’s one of the masters of world literature. But we demand so much exposure from our artists now. It’s such an interesting question, but I think you have to be able to play with it. You have to be able to take advantage of it. Like, I love Kanye. I think that he does that, he takes advantage of exposure, but you have to have that kind of personality. If you’re a little more reclusive, much like I am, it’s a question you keep thinking about.”

Willett’s literary musings are oddly timed. Just prior to our interview, I read a quote from Jorge Luis Borges: “Don’t talk unless you can improve the silence.” Does Willett still feel he has something of substance to say to the world? Is filling that silence what keeps him creating, or would the obsession exist without an audience?

“Such a big question. I find the creative process just full of highs and lows. You hit those moments where you’re able to do something that you’ve been dying to do, and you’re happy. And then you step away from that and suddenly you’re asking, ‘Who am I? What do I have to say?’ It’s weird. You don’t just get to do what you want all the time. Part of it is waiting for it to come to you, to be the best receiver that you can. And whatever that means – whether you have to walk around, drink all night, whatever – you have to put yourself in that place where good ideas can come to you.

“And I think that’s the hardest part of the creative process. Sometimes stuff just pops in – you’ll wake up in the middle of the night with all of these ideas. Other times you have to kind of just wait, and that’s the brutal part. That side when you’re searching for that muse, you couldn’t feel more empty. I think anybody who is a lover of art, from the highbrow to the lowbrow, I think should be working towards having a voice which is both your own, and something you’re receiving. It’s all very strange, and I think it really is something that you just have to suffer through.”