by kevin diamond
Sometimes, when I listen to The Walkmen, I feel like I’m glimpsing a past that hasn’t happened yet. The vintage reverb that drenches their recordings transport me backwards along the time-space continuim, yet the carefully constructed melodies, bleeding, pleating drumbeats, and howling, haunting vocals seem to come from some unexplored chasm of the universe.
FOUR PROVINCES BY THE WALKMEN:
On You and Me, The Walkmen continues along the path they set out on with 2002’s Everyone Who Pretended To Like Me Is Gone: Echo, reverb, distance, yearning; The tinny guitar, the vintage piano, the shuffling-to-thudding-to-shuffling percussion; the warble of Hamilton Leithauser’s vocals; it’s all there. Though there have been detours along the way (most notably 2006s strange Harold Nilsson album remake “Pussy Cats” Starring The Walkmen), they’re back to exploring the sonic highway and aural landscape they started off on.
If there’s one complaint to single out on this album, it may be the length of this particular stretch of highway. I imagine it’s no coincidence that their best album, 2004s Bows + Arrows, is their shortest, at 11 tracks. The 14 tracks presented here on You and Me seem to reach a bit, overstay their welcome. You yearn for a track like “The Rat” (from Bows) to stick out of the underbrush, tripping you up as you gaze at the scenery. Sometimes all that delicate beauty is tiring on the eyes; a shot of adrenaline can be just the thing to keep you from careening off the road and into a ditch along the way.
Let me know when this Highway metaphore becomes tiring. Oh, about three sentences ago? Got it. Let’s move on.
The lyrics are delicate, but stretched taut by Leithauser’s Dylanesque vocal delivery (especially prevelant on third track “On The Water”). The instrumentation is precise when it needs to be, the playing loose when warrented. Opener “Donde Esta la Playa” may be the most immediately likeable song. It opens with a splash and a melodic, rocking bassline. “It’s back to the battle today,” he sings, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“Red Moon” is undeniably beautiful, a piano ballad so simpley produced you can hear the shuffling of feat in the background. “Four Provinces” is as close they get to kicking a jam, but my favorite track may be “The Blue Route,” with it’s repeating chorus of “What Happened To You” that recalls Bows opener “What’s In It For Me?” This shift of focus seems to permiate the entire album. The songs are about aging, maturity, focusing on others instead of yourself. It’s a welcome change of outlook.
This is a band settling into itself, which is odd. Considering the loose, off-the-cuff nature of the “Pussy Cat” sessions and the instrument switch of their last proper album, A Hundred Miles Off (Bassist and Organist swapped instruments for the entire recording), it would appear these guys have been fighting against exactly that; it’s as though no matter how hard they try, the gravity at the center of The Walkmen has a pull that’s hard to break from. That’s not a bad thing. Nobody does what the Walkmen do, at least not this well.
This album has just a few more layers to it than you expect: a touch of harp here, horn parts deep in the mix, different percussive instruments and ideas. It tweaks, just ever so slightly, the typical Walkmen style. It’s not much, but it makes the album improve with every listen, without distancing itself from the Walkmen ouevre. And being comfortable in that space is probably the best thing this band can do right now. Let’s hope they don’t try to re-make any more Harry Nisson records.
