Cold Cave
Cherish The Light Years

New York is the center of the world, anyone who has passed through Times Square at least once knows it; every now and then the ultra-high-definition neon seems to absorb all the life there is, only to squeeze it and let it fall back onto its sidewalks.

New York is the asymptotic attractor of every existence on the planet, the Urbe of the modern age, the charm that lies in gray, New York is the point of arrival towards nothing, an unkept promise, the biggest cage that exists, exuding decadent beauty from every brick. Cold Cave were born and raised here, they took it as their teacher, and what comes out of their hands as soon as they touch their instruments is that cold synth-pop to be played in underground venues, haphazardly arranged on a dark plywood stage with metal nets all around.

The first "Love Comes Close" in 2009 sounded dark and minimalistic, either by the will of vocalist Wesley Eisold or due to the lack of complete mastery of the means; this "Cherish The Light Years" (2011) appears more lively at first glance, masked behind pompous sounds and atmospheres of grandeur, but underneath, the grimy tar soul that characterizes it remains the same. The revival of the '80s that has been so fashionable in recent years certainly does not shy away from the dark side of that decade, where keyboards programmed on mournful tones were outlining the path, where echoing guitars were filling the voids, where the ghostly voice was trying to pierce the plastic. The lightning-fast, instantaneous acceleration of "The Great Pan Is Dead" immediately gives the idea, striking and immediate like a flash, of what to expect from Cold Cave's second album: deep and imposing synths, scratching guitars, suffocated voice but perfectly integrated into the picture. There is no time to catch a breath, such that the drum hit at the opening of the subsequent "Pacing Around The Church" gives the impression of being the only moment we could use to recuperate, but it has passed. Too late.

This is not an exceptional album; even the initial tracks seem unable to recreate the atmosphere remembered from the previous work, but it is when auditory defenses are lowered that Cold Cave launch their strongest attack, elevating the tone of the album to a potential masterpiece. It ranges from "Confetti," opened by a hug of keyboards and guitars that feels like a dirty dream, to the splendidly radio-friendly "Catacombs," where the desire to look towards a Coney Island beach cannot fully escape from the steel grates surrounding the poorly painted petrol-colored stage, all the way to the track that alone is worth listening to this album with the beautiful mourning lady on the cover: "Underworld U.S.A.," whose opening might be mistaken for "Black Velveteen" by Lenny Kravitz, is a psychological scratch, a march on the sidewalks of poor neighborhoods, a frenetic palpitation leading to a heart attack. Sit down and listen, you will see empty parks, common people, murals, waiters who do not know the language well, fences protecting public housing, you will see the Smiths, the Cure, icy benches in the wind, lights too far away, smoke, smell of closed spaces, the emergency exit, but this is not the exit, you will see rats, bouncers, chains, locks, the office lit by a desk lamp, windows onto disorder. Yes, it could be a masterpiece, or at least it could have been if from this point onward compositional inspiration and thus the quality of the tracks did not get lost in the high mist that swallows Manhattan's skyline in December nights: "Icons Of Summer" does not know what it wants to be, one would like to tell it, "get a job," "Alchemy Around You" is a useless attempt to make a bunch of zombies dance by even bringing in the brass, "Burning Sage" brings a bit back to life the more minimal atmospheres of the debut album but is a desperate electroshock attempt, while "Villains Of The Moon" puts an end to everything and would do it in great style if not for that chorus that seems taken from some cartoon's theme song. From the '80s, of course.

A confirmation as a presence in the indispensable New York music scene, "Cherish The Light Years" is also the album in which Cold Cave prove not to fall into the mistake of the sequel-photocopy, the style is enriched, the arrangements swell, steps forward are made. However, they fall short a bit in quality.