If you ever need to seduce somebody, put on the Kills. Seriously, you’ll thank me later. There is something downright steamy about the music they make - both in the literal and the figurative sense in tonight’s case. Clouds of sweat hang in the air at the Wonder Ballroom, and sticky bodies are slowly gyrating all around me. Such is the power of this band. Against a sparkling leopard-print backdrop, they shatter my pithy expectations immediately. Alison Mosshart spends most of the performance balancing precariously atop her monitors, her high-heeled boots teetering at an unnatural angle. Her long black hair is ratted into a crown-like shape, with the ends hanging in her face as usual. She’s got a history of using her hair as a shield against the crowd’s prying eyes, and though she’s come a long way since the band’s early days, she remains slightly introverted. On the opposite side of the stage, Jamie Hince, the focused professional, solemnly plays his guitar and lends his voice to a selection of songs.
Mosshart's confidence has grown significantly, and she roams the stage as she sings. Audience members stretch their hands toward her as she looms above, but she coyly refuses them. Her voice is more polished and she seems comfortable – almost. The band begins with "No Wow," the title track from their second album, and makes sure to play a diverse selection throughout the night. Some of us have been here since the beginning, and this is an expression of the band's gratitude. The Kills are not the typical act that plays everything from the latest album and throws in a few old favorites. They've crafted an intricate set list just for us, with fair representation from each record. Though the performers are serious and intense, they pause to exchange I-love-yous during an interlude.
It's roasting hot in here, yet the band members wear long sleeves. Household window fans are propped in strategic locations to prevent overheating. Both Hince and Mosshart inject a fair amount of swagger into their delivery, and Mosshart's slow-swinging hips captivate onlookers as she snarls into the microphone. The band performs a cover of an old dancehall song, "You Don’t Love Me (No, No, No)," and the room is filled with collective strain as we audience members struggle to place it. Mosshart plays guitar on several songs, and has the cable wrapped dangerously around her legs. She seems unconcerned, and twists free effortlessly before putting the instrument aside. She then falls to her knees and rests her head on an amp, looking briefly exhausted, but pops back up just as quickly.
Saturated in dark purple light as the set draws to a close, the stage resembles a giant altar. Though the atmosphere has been solidly rock-and-roll all night, the band takes us to a different space with one of their final selections. "The Last Goodbye," a pained breakup song, descends on the crowd like a whiskey-soaked blanket. Mosshart runs her fingers over her necklace – a collection of silver rings strung on a chain – for the duration, adding to the power of the ballad. She makes a sad-eyed glance at the audience, and stands still to revel in the instrumental fade-out. Mosshart regains her composure, pacing like a caged animal during "Fried My Little Brains," which closes out the night. This has been, without question, their best performance of the five I’ve witnessed, and the overwhelming heat of it has fried my little brains indeed.
Prior to the Kills, Cold Cave plays for us. The three members are dressed all in black, and they all have really good hair. With nothing but drums, keyboards, and samples galore, they put forth quick-paced tunes that are infinitely danceable. Unfortunately, the vocal microphone is set way too low, causing the singer’s impassioned delivery to come out mumbled. No matter. The music is the message, and that message brings quite a party with it. Three songs in, the towering strobe lights kick in at the rear of the stage, sending bright white flashes through the venue. The drummer thrashes out relentless beats on his clear Lucite drum set. With the microphone troubles, it’s hard to tell where one song ends and the next begins. However, strong influences from bands like Joy Division and the Cure are evident. Suddenly there's a shift in the performance, and the band delves deep into electronic experimentation land. With little more than noise for the next few minutes, my mind checks out for a while. Once the band is satisfied with the technical capabilities of their equipment, they return to playing music. The keyboardist is thrashing so violently as he plays that it looks as if he is striking the keys with the side of his face. Just as the performance crests, though, it abruptly ends. Cold Cave shuffles from the stage without a word.
The Kills Set List
No Wow
Future Starts Slow
The Heart is a Beating Drum
Kissy Kissy
U.R.A. Fever
DNA
Satellite
Tape Song
Baby Says
You Don’t Love Me (Dawn Penn cover)
You Don’t Own the Road
Sour Cherry
The Last Goodbye
Pots and Pans
Fried My Little Brains
