Cold and Kind is the full-length debut from Chicago-based septet The 1900s, who formed officially in 2004 but trace roots to friendships and high school noise bands from years before. The record rests comfortably under the indie-pop umbrella, but the sleight of hand the group successfully performs is to craft ultra-catchy chamber pop without overly precious twee; they come across as both youthfully bright-eyed and deeply world-worn.
At the heart of the 1900s’ self-described psychedelic pop are lovely melodies earnestly transmitted by a trio of vocalists, Edward Anderson, Jeanine O’Toole, and Caroline Donovan. The instrumentation is diverse and applied with great attention to detail; keyboards, a small string section, the occasional horn and other surprises breathe additional life into the songs beyond the guitar, bass and drums they naturally employ.
The 1900s’ songwriting is consistently strong throughout Cold and Kind, and there are some fine gems to be found within. “City Water” has a feel akin to Nico’s classic “These Days”, the kind of mellow folk tune which invites you to lull inside its pensive melancholy. Layered guitar jangles punctuate the verses of “Acutiplantar Dude”, and when at the chorus they suddenly disappear the newly open space draws closer attention to its plaintively alluring hook. O’Toole and Donovan’s voices drift in and out of unison in “The Medium Way”, an interplay that creates some absolutely stunning harmonies.
The lyrical themes are noticeably distinct in mood from the sunny melodies they inhabit. Loneliness and human folly dot a landscape of irreconcilable choices, emotions and images in constant flux. The first lines from the brief, sparse lament that opens Cold and Kind ‘I’m too afraid to live alone/too scared to leave my home.’ Female-fronted “When I Say Go” confesses ‘Listen up, I never knew I’d ever be so sad/I’ve been touched in places by very scary hands”, and moments later concludes “All the world is cold/ice to snow to sun/look at what is left/It’s just me/and I’ve been waiting all alone”. And while frequently brushing with contentment but not quite retaining it, Anderson’s mildly dry voice reflects ‘I’ve grown so tall I’m walking right into sunlight/I tried to learn to love the shine/but I find it awful hot.’
These twelve songs are not sure if they really are as upbeat as they may outwardly seem, and, perhaps as a result of their emotional depth, this instantly catchy record may also enjoy a long shelf life. Cold and Kind is all the more recommendable because it could easily slip under the radar of many who would happily fall for its considerable charms.
