We all have our favourites: bands that you simply cannot understand aren’t huge.
Step forward The Cold Stares.
It genuinely upsets me that the last time I saw them play, about two years ago, there were roughly 100 people there. Their latest album, Texas, makes that relative lack of recognition even harder to comprehend.
From Brian Mullins’ opening drums to Chris Tapp’s riff, “Nowhere To Go” is as raw as anything Cream did at their most unrestrained. The lyrics make it clear that these men will not be tied down either. They are road dogs. That is what they do and who they are.
Whoever the woman in “Queen Of Hearts” might be – the one with a shiny pistol in her right hand and a long list of demands – is open to question. What is beyond debate is that the song is wonderful: bluesy as hell and crowned by a perfect guitar solo.
There is something primal about the way The Cold Stares make music. “Deeper You Dig” is heavy without becoming cumbersome, while “Can’t Hold Out Much Longer” demonstrates the swing and soul underneath everything the trio does.
That soul becomes even more obvious when they slow things down. Their version of B.B. King’s “Chains And Things” sounds dark, bruised and lived-in. “One Last Last Chance” strips things back further. Largely acoustic, it possesses a dusty, unsettling air, as if something unpleasant is waiting beyond the horizon.
What is astonishing is that The Cold Stares never seem to get anything wrong. “Out Of Love” is constructed from an enormous riff, a tremendous vocal and an instinctive understanding of where the song needs to go.
“Burden To Bear” is as warm and welcoming as blues rock ever gets. Bryce Klueh’s bass and Mullins’ drums supply the swing, while Tapp’s guitar provides the fire.
Love on “Possession” is exactly that: possession. It is not romantic or comforting, but something demonic that takes control and refuses to let go.
“Further Down The Road” is short, sharp, lean and mean. The fact it was chosen as a single says plenty about the record’s vibe: The Cold Stares do not waste a note. “Sugarcane” adds a little funk and gospel flavour to the closing moments without disturbing the grit running through the album.
Texas swings, grooves and possesses enormous soul. More importantly, everything here feels honest.
The Cold Stares should be playing to far more than 100 people. Whether Texas changes that remains to be seen. It absolutely should.
