The Walkmen’s Lisbon a simple beauty
There is really something quite beautiful about sparseness and
restraint. The hold back of the big explosion that you can feel
just beneath the undercurrent of a song brings an immeasurable
tension to it.
It’s as if the song is a soda bottle constantly shaking but the
cap is never removed.
The Walkmen’s Lisbon a simple beauty
There is really something quite beautiful about sparseness and restraint. The hold back of the big explosion that you can feel just beneath the undercurrent of a song brings an immeasurable tension to it.
It’s as if the song is a soda bottle constantly shaking but the cap is never removed.
In music, it’s something rarely done. Most bands accept that grandiose noise and try to aim for it.
Bands like Arcade Fire live with trying to be as big as they can. The swirling guitars and violins. The airy drums and floating vocals. That is the Arcade Fire’s powerful trademark.
But for the New York quintet, The Walkmen, it is the exact opposite but they don’t lose an ounce of a song’s power. They live in the world of restraint – barely holding together as the intertwining guitar and drums carry the songs forward.
Unlike Arcade Fire, The Walkmen have few instruments at their disposal. Most songs are driven by the thunderous and consistent drumming of Matt Barrick as the rest of the band fiddles around with a guitar, bass and stand-up piano and not much else. Despite the band’s small army of instruments, it’s singer Hamilton Leithauser who gives the group a throwback and angst atmosphere.
His voice isn’t very pretty. It’s a turn-bright-red angst of a voice – where every note seems like a struggle and battle. Often compared to Bob Dylan, Leithauser’s voice is a straight rock ‘n roll with a big enough wallop that wakes the occasional song from a slow, dormant state.
The 2008 record You & Me was one of my favorites of that year. It was a slow-burning piece of music that weaved horns into The Walkmen’s signature sparse-rock sound. Adding another classical sound to the band, the horns were the driving force of the album.
To prepare its fans for their newest and sixth album, Lisbon, the band used the same horn for a song that was simply a duet between Leithauser and the horn. “Stranded” is a tremendous slow-building song that relies on the bittersweet horns.
“There’s broken glass all around my feet/ Laid my plan so carelessly/ What’s the story,” Leithauser sings.
It is a sad but uplifting song – thanks mostly to the wonderful horns.
Weirdly though, the first single is an aberration of sorts – on the album’s 11 tracks “Stranded” is the only one where horns are present. Instead the rest of the album stays in the confines of simplicity and full of restraint.
Songs are extremely guitar heavy but still distinctly The Walkmen. The song “Victory” is a rock anthem with Leithauser screaming “victory” throughout.
“Victory right beside me/ As blood all over my hand/ Victory should have been mine/ oh string you along girl,” he sings.
It’s an album highlight because of the victory screams that carry the song to a loud messy but simple ruckus.
The album’s best song is “Angela Surf City” – which is driven by the heavy pulsating drumming of Barrick, who kicks the song into high gear. The guitars are wavy and swell as Leithauser slams into the chorus. It is the album’s most rock-ready song and it’s the only song that cuts the tension and restraint and lets everything just fall apart around the band.
The band untucks their nicely pressed shirts and just lets go and it’s something you can feel it in the song’s momentum.
“Angela holds a grudge/ over nothing/ Angela what’s the difference/ today’s a day like any other,” Leithauser lets go.
The song is only the album’s second but it feels like it should be the last because as quick as it came – the album and the band drift back into their box.
It’s a monumental and important part of the album that shows what the band can become when it lets its hair down.
The rest of the album sticks with the band’s simple formula and at times it’s wonderful, but every now and again it seems they buttoned their shirts one to many times.
A song like “All My Great Designs,” just needs something more. It has a quiet and somber guitar that Leithauser never bolts from. It’s a song that starts, stays and ends quiet waiting for the glass to shatter, allowing it to explode.
It’s a lovely song but when the album reaches its backend the listener just wants a little more.
For all the album’s holdups and restraints it is a lovely and wonderful piece of music. It’s simple in its core but that never should be a bad thing.
The Walkmen’s Lisbon is out Sept. 14 but you can listen to it on NPR.com. It may not be the album of the year or match up with 2008’s great You & Me but Lisbon is a wonderful experience that I will go return to constantly the rest of the year.
