After releasing over-produced and overwrought flop Mine is Yours back in 2010, it appeared as though California’s Cold War Kids had reached the apex of their musical career with success of their prior LP, Loyalty to Loyalty. Their sound, once alluring because of seemingly inexhaustible peculiarity and imperfection, had become polished, careful. Gone was the crude spark that had ignited hits like “We Used to Vacation,” “Hang Me Up to Dry,” and “Something Is Not Right With Me,” and in its stead an all too pretty (and boring) flame came rising out of songs like the radio ready “Louder Than Ever” and the eponymous “Mine Is Yours.” Fortunately, Dear Miss Lonelyhearts propels CWK out of their downward trajectory, harking back to technique that garnered them such a buzz in the first place.
“Miracle Mile” erupts with spirited, piano-driven urgency, and it quickly becomes clear why CWK selected it as both the opening track and single: it dispels the malaise that set in after Mine is Yours with confidence and verve, and when lead singer Nathan Willett sings, “I was supposed to do great things, / I knew the road was long. / But I wasn’t raised to shoot for fame – / I had the safety on”, it feels like an apology for the whole mishap ––one you can’t help but accept. Then, “Lost That Easy” swoops in to capitalize on the momentum set forth, combining unrelenting hi-hat work and strategically sparse guitar with Willett’s vocal prowess, which, while still tinged by the excessive cleanliness of the album prior, is as sharp and soulful as you could hope. Even the electronic coloring of “Loner Phase” is forceful and compelling, though some may find it to be more evidence of CWK’s new arena friendly leanings.
The promise offered up by these first few songs, however, is broken throughout the rest of Dear Miss Lonelyhearts. In the second half of the album, just after the dark, brass-filled “Fear & Trembling” and the satisfying blues stylings of “Tuxedos,” there is a relapse into safe, cookie-cutter indie rock. “Bottled Affection” is noticeable filler, comprised of little more than clap tracks, simple synth and guitar lines, and a lackluster melody––one that even Willett sounds bored singing. And “Jailbirds,” while bright and unquestionably catchy, operates with too much restraint and never advances beyond the homogeneity that made Mine is Yours so generic. The title and closing tracks, however, may be the most disappointing points of the album, dragging along slow and uninspired, with Willett’s voice (surprisingly) struggling to maintain itself in the upper registers.
Suffice to say, Dear Miss Lonelyhearts isn’t going to gain CWK much in the way of critical acclaim, though it may offer a newer generation of fans an easy way in. Could they have put out a worse album? Absolutely. At the very least, this release shows that CWK recognizes their flaws and the dangers of exploring more conservative directions in order to appease larger audiences, meaning there’s still potential for a more dynamic and intriguing album sometime in the future. In the meantime, while there’s enough here to warrant a listen if you’re so inclined, it wouldn’t be a tragedy if you skipped it.
Review by Justin Davis