Philadelphia Weekly

A girl speaks against a dark, claustrophobic pulse of drum machines and synthesizers, her voice chilled and touched by only the faintest hint of emotion. “A synthetic world without end sheds a tear of plastic deception,” she intones. That’s Cold Cave, the Philadelphia-based synth experiment headed by Wes Eisold—the girl is Caralee McElroy from Xiu Xiu—updating the machine dreams of 90s new wave a la New Order and Fad Gadget.

It’s a surprising turnaround for Eisold who came up through the angst and aggression of hardcore, spitting and ranting and poeticizing over punk-noisy American Nightmare, Give Up the Ghost, Some Girls, XO Skeletons and Ye Olde Maids.

And then, recently, Eisold left hardcore behind. “I feel my past was largely driven by anger and insecurity with no solution, and I don’t feel that way anymore,” he says of the shift in his aesthetic. “I think naturally the music I’m making now is different than it was five or ten years ago, and I would be a bit unhappy with myself if there was no change.”

Eisold started making music on his own in 2007. “I spent a lot of that year feeling unaffected, lethargic and drunk in a loft here and Philadelphia,” he said. He named it Cold Cave, a name that he describes as “without outside reference that fit the music.” Because he was born with only one hand and wanted to work alone, guitars were problematic. He began experimenting with synthesizers.

“The appeal of synthesizers is that there is no end to the sound, and there is no limit to what you can do with them by yourself,” says Eisold. “It’s the only instrument I could make work for me.”

For one thing, synthesizers don’t talk back when you tell them how to play a line. “They want your manipulation in ways people would not stand for,” says Eisold. “I know this is obvious and not news to most people, but I was under the impression I would never make music myself. I stumbled on it, fed up and a bit anxious. Molding an instrument whose name is rooted in falsehood into personal truth has been fascinating for me.”

But more than just convenience, synthesizers offer a way to talk about (and possibly subvert) the central role that machines play in our lives. “I find the instrument really fitting as the majority of our communication is done through machines,” Eisold said. “Why fight the inevitable? They won’t even let you die in a hospital anymore. They will attach you to machines to play God and defy nature. All I can think to do now is to humanize the machines in our lives that dehumanize us. You have to caress them, on a stage, in front of other people. It’s humility we’re after.” 


Music is only one part of Eisold’s creative life. He is also a poet (just read his quotes!) and runs Heartworm Press, a Philadelphia imprint which has published works by Eric Paul (of Arab On Radar), Genesis P-Orridge, Jonathan Shaw, Chris Leo, and Max G. Morton. He also opened the Chinatown art space/book store Juanita and Juans last year, though it has since closed. 


About the difference between writing poetry and writing songs, Eisold is reflective. “When you are writing words to music, you get to work with a feel that’s already been created. You can kind of just talk, and words will come out that fit the sound of the song,” he explains. “A blank page comes with more staring and more concentration. For me anyway, music alters mood, but with other writing, you just start with whatever it is you’ve got.” 


Cold Cave began as a one-person project, releasing early singles, cassettes and one full-length through Eisold’s own Heartworm Press (which functions both as a music label and a publishing house), as well as underground labels including Hospital, What’s Your Rupture and Big Love. The band, which has since expanded to include McElroy, Dominick Fernow (from Prurient), and Sarah Lipstate (ex- of Parts and Labor), signed to Matador this summer. “I can’t say what the difference is,” says Eisold. “I was happy to do records with Hospital. I was happy to self-release, and I’m happy to work with Matador now.”

Cold Cave’s first Matador release, Love Comes Close , repackages the full-length that Eisold released on Heartworm earlier this year. It was released on November 3rd. Meanwhile, Eisold continues to work on his sound, this time with a full band. “We’re always recording, so some of it will turn into the next LP,” he says. “It’s always different sounding, just depending on where you are at a certain day at a certain time.” ■