“In the New Year“
from the album You & Me
2008
iTunes
New York band The Walkmen wowed audiences with their stripped-down-yet-expansive sound and somber lyrics on their 2002 debut, Everyone Who Pretended to Like Me is Gone. With each new outing, the band continues to explore their sound, seeking to find a balance between the roughhewn guitar and vocals of their songs and the smooth, soothing soundscapes created through vintage instruments and never-ending experimentation in the studio.
It’s safe to say The Walkmen have found that balance on their newest album, You & Me, which drops August 19. All the tried-and-true elements shine in vibrant technicolor on this album — the ragged guitars and Bob Dylan-inspired vocals, surrounded by sweeping analog keyboards on one side and versatile drumming on the other.
Just listen to “In the New Year” and you’ll understand what I’m talking about. The song starts off with Hamilton Leithauser’s worn voice backed by Paul Maroon’s rusty guitar. Then, as the chorus approaches, you hear the steady thumping of drums, followed by a mournful fuillisade of organs which overtake the guitar and compete with Leithauser’s voice for your attention.
“Red Moon” is another song that shows The Walkmen fine-tuning their sound. The song is built around pianos, keyboards, and horns, with guitars and drums taking a supporting role. I could see myself listening to this song in the midst of a sleepless night. It’s soft and gentle, complete with a nursery rhyme cadence that recalls “Rock-a-Bye-Baby,” except “Red Moon” sends delicious shivers down my spine. Picture “Rock-a-Bye-Baby” set to lyrics about loss, death, and alienation and you’ll understand my reaction. The lyrics are sharp and vivid, yielding a favorite line on the album, “you shine like the steel on my knife” (so chilling, yet so beautiful, thanks to the keyboards and pianos, which blanket you in a warm sea of sound).
You & Me is an apt title for this album. Each track centers on either a doomed relationship or the archetypal nomad’s clashing desires to wander, on the one hand, and to find a resting place, on the other. The instrumentation is haunting and pared down, which fits the forlorn mood of the album. Yet, I still find myself bopping my head to the beat and fighting the urge to do a little dance as I listen to the songs (nothing crazy like the Electric Slide or the Macarena; a little melancholy swaying will do).
The Walkmen’s latest offering You & Me catches your attention — and holds it. Sure, the music is very somber and blue and downbeat. The point is that it’s somber and blue and downbeat with great intensity and energy, inviting you to listen again and again, which is just what any album worth a damn (be it sugary pop, down ‘n dirty rock, or soulful R&B) ought to do.