articles
The Walkmen / Bobby Bare Jr. / Candy Bars
from volume 01 issue 05 // Michael Rabinowitz
The Walkmen / Bobby Bare Jr. / Candy Bars
August 28. 2006
The Orpheum
Words: Michael Rabinowitz
Photos: Rob Levin
“We are from New York City.â€
That statement alone offers a proceeding reputation that would cause most of today’s band’s testicle fortitude to shrivel. Being a band from NYC, let alone Brooklyn, the winds of trends blow just as hard against The Walkmen as they lifted them up six years ago. As quick as their NYC brethren the Strokes and French Kicks bedded the prom queen that is universal adoration, she absconded into the night leaving behind the inevitable venereal disease that is critical backlash. Yet, The Walkmen wear their geography proudly on their sleeves.
The Walkmen’s distinct trait is lead singer Hamilton Leithauser, whose guttural vocals bear a striking resemblance to Bob Dylan’s. First impressions are they are the Strokes but gauzier, smokier, more enigmatic. But, applying vintage amplifiers, quick strum guitars, and clanging piano The Walkmen are closer to Velvet Underground than Nick Casablanca ever pursued. These were all characteristics of the burgeoning NY indie garage scene of 2000. A scene that stripped down radio rock—giving it a truer sound in contrast to the heavy produced teen confectionary that dominated ‘90’s pop music.
It is easy to say The Walkmen are a cheap Dylan impression, but their influences lie beyond that. Whiffs of Joy Division, New Order, Sonic Youth, Television, and the Cure bubble forth. Even as I write this, four days after the show, it is difficult pinning them down to one context. Maybe that is what makes them so memorable. This could be a form of survival instinct. It seems the NY scene requires a band to inherit an amalgam of influences just to avoid being stamped by smarmy music critics.
These influences almost contradicted each other like in “The Rat,†a squealing pure punk-thrash number with drummer Matt Barrick killing his kit like Animal in Dr. Teeth’s Electric Mayhem. On the other side of the spectrum was “Lousiana,†a classic 60’s Dylan model akin to “Visions of Johanna,†with Calexico-style trumpets. The band cleverly invited local favorite, Kenny Pullin of the d’Visitors, on horn.
The highlight of the show being “Wake Up,†from their 2001 self-titled EP. The band sonically recreates the experience of non-R.E.M. sleep, that ethereal state of conscious limbo. By spanking on the keys, Paul Maroon contributes as much percussion to the piano as Barrick. Like a duet, the two set up an oozy backdrop for this spectral din. Leithauser tightens his vocal chords for a sharper, tinnier effect. Questions posed as lyrics like, “Haven’t we met before?†add to the otherworldliness of the tune.
The Walkmen do suffer that their sound is now five plus years old. Now, I don’t condemn acts that are dogmatic with their styles. Cake, AC/DC, and the late, great Ramones prove that an act can retain vision while remaining static in their style. But, in today’s pop landscape I am not sure these bands would be taken seriously. The music industry is cutthroat by nature and if you are not changing, you are dying; or being satirized (see The Darkness). Soon to arrive to Tampa, the French Kicks (9/28, Orpheum), also out of the NYC Class of ’00, evolved beyond simple chords of garage rock to a more layered, synth sound, a la Modern English or New Order. But, this October The Walkmen will release a track by track cover of Harry Nilsson’s 1974 album, “Pussycats.†Despite the vacillating indie scene, The Walkmen seem unable to resist the draw of exploring early 70’s art rock. A decision that is ultimately New York to its core.
August 28. 2006
The Orpheum
Words: Michael Rabinowitz
Photos: Rob Levin
“We are from New York City.â€
That statement alone offers a proceeding reputation that would cause most of today’s band’s testicle fortitude to shrivel. Being a band from NYC, let alone Brooklyn, the winds of trends blow just as hard against The Walkmen as they lifted them up six years ago. As quick as their NYC brethren the Strokes and French Kicks bedded the prom queen that is universal adoration, she absconded into the night leaving behind the inevitable venereal disease that is critical backlash. Yet, The Walkmen wear their geography proudly on their sleeves.
The Walkmen’s distinct trait is lead singer Hamilton Leithauser, whose guttural vocals bear a striking resemblance to Bob Dylan’s. First impressions are they are the Strokes but gauzier, smokier, more enigmatic. But, applying vintage amplifiers, quick strum guitars, and clanging piano The Walkmen are closer to Velvet Underground than Nick Casablanca ever pursued. These were all characteristics of the burgeoning NY indie garage scene of 2000. A scene that stripped down radio rock—giving it a truer sound in contrast to the heavy produced teen confectionary that dominated ‘90’s pop music.
It is easy to say The Walkmen are a cheap Dylan impression, but their influences lie beyond that. Whiffs of Joy Division, New Order, Sonic Youth, Television, and the Cure bubble forth. Even as I write this, four days after the show, it is difficult pinning them down to one context. Maybe that is what makes them so memorable. This could be a form of survival instinct. It seems the NY scene requires a band to inherit an amalgam of influences just to avoid being stamped by smarmy music critics.
These influences almost contradicted each other like in “The Rat,†a squealing pure punk-thrash number with drummer Matt Barrick killing his kit like Animal in Dr. Teeth’s Electric Mayhem. On the other side of the spectrum was “Lousiana,†a classic 60’s Dylan model akin to “Visions of Johanna,†with Calexico-style trumpets. The band cleverly invited local favorite, Kenny Pullin of the d’Visitors, on horn.
The highlight of the show being “Wake Up,†from their 2001 self-titled EP. The band sonically recreates the experience of non-R.E.M. sleep, that ethereal state of conscious limbo. By spanking on the keys, Paul Maroon contributes as much percussion to the piano as Barrick. Like a duet, the two set up an oozy backdrop for this spectral din. Leithauser tightens his vocal chords for a sharper, tinnier effect. Questions posed as lyrics like, “Haven’t we met before?†add to the otherworldliness of the tune.
The Walkmen do suffer that their sound is now five plus years old. Now, I don’t condemn acts that are dogmatic with their styles. Cake, AC/DC, and the late, great Ramones prove that an act can retain vision while remaining static in their style. But, in today’s pop landscape I am not sure these bands would be taken seriously. The music industry is cutthroat by nature and if you are not changing, you are dying; or being satirized (see The Darkness). Soon to arrive to Tampa, the French Kicks (9/28, Orpheum), also out of the NYC Class of ’00, evolved beyond simple chords of garage rock to a more layered, synth sound, a la Modern English or New Order. But, this October The Walkmen will release a track by track cover of Harry Nilsson’s 1974 album, “Pussycats.†Despite the vacillating indie scene, The Walkmen seem unable to resist the draw of exploring early 70’s art rock. A decision that is ultimately New York to its core.
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