Wesley Eisold, the man at the centre of dark synth band Cold Cave isn't exactly a barrel of laughs. In fact, snippets from interviews smack of parody; the Guardian quotes him as saying “I couldn't understand why people were wearing watches, because they seemed like hourglasses of death, keeping track of how much time was running out.” He also finds it “all so disheartening what we hope to find when we leave our houses” and that being normal is like “being numb to everything.” It'd sound daft””like a sulky goth schoolboy all grown up””if Eisold wasn't very serious indeed, and a fascinating character.As well as running Heartworm Press, a small publishing house, Cold Cave is Eisold's latest project, following on from hardcore groups American Nightmare and Some Girls. It has gone from a one-man band to a quartet and this record””their first release on Matador””is, says Wesley, an attempt to “make a beautiful album to balance all the ugliness I've put into the world.”Still, beauty is relative and it's not a total about turn; Eisold hasn't quite repositioned himself as the magical man from Happy Land. Rather, Love Comes Close possesses a robust charm, born from layered, lyrical synth lines and hypnotic beats. It looks back to obvious touchstones such as New Order and Suicide but skirts neatly around the poppier end of synth-pop””the origins of two of the Cold Cave's members in hardcore/noise outfits (Eisold and Dominick Fernow, of Prurient) remains fairly plain. There's plenty of controlled distortion fizzing away beneath the smooth surface.On the opener 'Cebe and Me' a female voice leaves what sounds like a drugged-up answering machine message (one she might regret in the morning), over a dense, ticking track. The words here are mostly indiscernible””as on much of the album””but the lyrics probably include lines such as “till the end of the world” and “trust is broken.” Love and death dominates, not least on the excellent title track. It's upbeat, but with a chorus of “love comes close/but chooses to spare me/death comes close/but ceases to take me.” Delivered in Eisold's syrupy baritone it could soundtrack a mopey teenager's bedroom with concerned parents banging on the door. Elsewhere, 'Life Magazine' may be the year's most positive track about suicide, and 'Youth and Lust' brings to mind M83's 'Graveyard Girl' recast through a very dark lens.So, we've been here before many times, but does it matter? This album is a rewarding half hour, like a club-friendly flipside to Fever Ray. As nights get longer and winter draws in, it's worth tracking down; Cold Cave are a lot warmer and more alluring than the name suggests.