Cold War Kids

Hang Me Up To Dry

Cold War Kids release this song more often than an NME journalist’s pimply arse releases undead odours. But, unlike our anal art, somehow this remains distinctly fresh. A minimal blues bassline more sample-able than a cup of James Brown’s piss, a drunk piano falling off a ladder and a mad wailing vocal about doing the washing – you’ve heard it before, but you ain’t heard nothing like it before.