Leave a trail of popped corn or bread crumbs behind you as you go off to listen to Robbers & Cowards. It’s the best advice that I can give you. You will find yourself lost among the dirty fingernails, the illicit lives and the integrity of the worst offenders. There are brambles and tangents that take you further into the sort of labyrinthine world of petty criminals and those lacking the aplomb to do exactly what they think is right when it makes the most sense to do so. These are the stories that we don’t have nightmares over because they are commonplace. The chance of being morally torn between good and bad, barely right and mildly wrong is always borderline to red alert levels. There is no shortage of gut checks on this full-length debut record by Californians Cold War Kids, who are mindful of the shades of gray in every man, woman and child, the wavering clause that’s built into every person for just the right occasion when it’s needed to adequately justify stealing from the collection plate at church (“_The givers not knowing where there money’s going is as sinful as throwing away/Stained glass it shines on my red wine/And the sweat on my brow drips to my shaking knees/Small sacrifice to benefit one man’s journey away from America’s seas/Sweet, sweet sigh of relief_”) and robbing houses of trinkets, purses, china and antique armoires — though knocking first, not just slipping in under the cover of night. There’s the alcoholic who recognizes that his son decking another kid is hereditary and yet that gin — the real problem child — still calls out to him like one of Homer’s sirens. This record is haunted by all kinds of sirens, with different faces and different motives, with different tactics and different needs. How much more lifelike can you get? There isn’t a negligent emotion or sentiment on this album. It’s a stash of feverish, feverish admonitions of our desires for the avarice and yet lead singer and songwriter Nathan Willett always shows the flipside of the coin. There’s an understanding of this need for more and for better and for escape, but it’s not really the avarice of gold coin and paper dollars. It’s the avarice of that actual human condition that makes this urge quiver to life. Try as they might, the characters that Willett’s written into these songs are victims of everyday life, not anything sensationalized or showy. They’re the victims of the day-to-day, run of the mill transgressions and tribulations that befall big men and little men. It’s a black hole to experience it and it’s a Bermuda Triangle to listen to it. There’s empathy for all of those who want to see the guy double down and lose his shirt and there’s also the feuding need for us to see that sorrowful man pick himself up off the ground and get going with life again. You’re rooting for both sides with these robbers and cowards, who simply say, “Pray for us. We need all the help we can get.”

Nathan Willett checks in:
12-19-06
Cold War Kids got in a plane bound for New York City. We hit the ground and drove immediately to a SPIN party where we played with the group Gogol Bordello. They dominated the green room in personality, garb, energy, and alcohol.
12-20-06
Went to SIR studio in Manhattan to do a little pre-Letterman rehearsal. Except for the new guitar Jonnie finagled, the tune was same old, same old.
12-21
Woke up late and realized the advantage that would have come with planning outfit before TV performance. ‘Is it about comfort or style?’ You wonder. It’s about what’s in the backpack, folks. Arrive at Letterman and talk keyboard shop with Paul Schaeffer at rehearsal. For some reason he loves us. We sit in our dressing room watching the taping of the show and pretend like we aren’t really there. Then we get called down, take an elevator ride, walk out, play our song for what felt like ten seconds, and then bam, we’re done, we walk backstage, stagehands are clapping politely, and we are back upstairs. Later on, we watch Letterman at Sid’s house and we are weirded out.
12-22
We play a radio show in Philly, which is usually a miserable thing, but this was a live performance and there were many people sitting in front of us, sitting mind you is new for us, which in addition, we had a Q&A break four songs into the performance, so the combined effect was much like “Inside the Actor’s Studio.” Could sound awkward, but we had a great time, a really unique experience, we were laughing a lot and wanted to talk about the songs.

Matt Aveiro checks in:
Last week was my first time to New York during winter, and the first real
chance we’ve had free time there as a band. I spent as much time walking as
I could, just wandering off alone aimlessly. Eating the first decent Mexican food in New York with our friend Syd was probably the highlight of the week. Since he spawned offspring we haven’t seen much of him. Our last night in the city was spent at Syd’s, watching Letterman. There couldn’t be a better person to shake our heads and laugh with as the camera pans over from the record to Matt playing bass.

Matt Maust checks in:
I’ve enjoyed a few things this past week. Lists are always the easiest for
me and I don’t have anyone to edit my grammar. I’ve been up at a friends cabin for the past five days in Arrowhead, Calif.

1. Elvis Perkins’ Ash Wednesday has dominated the airwaves in the cabin. Do yourself a favor and put it on right now.

2. I saw Danny Simon and laughed.

3. I got a message from Eva that made me laugh and smile.

4. I’ve gotten solid time in on working on Paul and I’s book titled What It Is, What It Is. It’s really coming along nicely at this point.

5. I slept in Sam Owens’ sleeping bag last night while I listened to his new songs. He’s in Seattle and he left it for me. It’s much warmer than mine as it’s fit for below 10-degrees F.

Cold War Kids Daytrotter Session
Cold War Kids Official Site