Shuffling into the room with a lurching bass, “Cold” enters like an ominous and haunting presence. When Laura Fell’s low voice arrives, ushering in an array of percussive tracks that clink, clang, and chime atop the rest of the music, the track blossoms like some great goddess unveiling themselves to the world. It’s like Tom Waits seen from a different view, or Fiona Apple if she were possessed by some demon.
“Cold” explores “the vulnerability of entering into a new relationship – wanting to open yourself fully, but fearful of doing this too soon – and essentially asking someone not to reject or judge you when you show them the messier parts of yourself,” according to Fell. A psychotherapist by day, it’s no surprise that Fell’s words on “Cold” are introspective and considered: “I can’t find the answers for myself / It’s easier to help somebody else,” she muses before a brief moment of pause. “Be kind to me,” she adds, the vulnerability of her now cooing voice on show. With a song as enrapturing as “Cold”, it’s hard to be anything but kind to Fell.