Jeffrey Overwood, L.A.
Hamilton Leithauser is no slouch. Beyond a formidable 6'5 frame, he
has nearly as gripping a stare as he does a voice. He uses both
attributes well, whipping the crowd into a frenzy with his
white-hot rasp one minute, blowing them off with a steely, detached
gaze of daggers the next.
Sometimes, you don't know whether to cheer or duck, and there were
moments during Tuesday night's performance at The Music Box in
Hollywood where both reactions were appropriate.
Leithauser is not the only band member who makes an arresting
visual impression. Indeed, the pure physicality of the five
gentlemen who comprise the Walkmen is an interesting microcosm of
the band's musical identity.
Keyboardist Walter Martin, also quite large, is as aloof as he is
quietly focused on stage. Guitarist Paul Maroon and bassist Peter
Bauer are smaller, more rumpled and non-descript figures, rather
difficult to place age-wise. Drummer Matt Barrick is downright tiny
compared to his hulking frontman, but ironically packs perhaps the
biggest musical wallop of them all.
The Walkmen's music mirrors its own corporeal image rather closely.
The songs can be hard to pin down, distant but at times hugely
commanding, alternatively massive and diminutive in sonics and
scope. The tones are chronologically fuzzy as well, bringing to
mind the early '50s as much as the early '90s. Lyrically, the
sentiments conjure as much provocation as they do
standoffishness.
Such layers make for a rather rich and texturally dense sound, but
somehow still also allow the listener some room for personal
interpretation. This is truly the Walkmen's secret recipe, and it
has been finely seasoned on the band's newest release "You &
Me," where all of the flavors combine into the Walkmen's most
satisfying and consistent effort to date.
Opener "New Country," featuring Leithauser's voice accompanied only
by Maroon's reverb-soaked Gretsch and a four-piece horn section,
set a powerful mood for the rest of the evening, which the band was
unable to maintain for the entirety of the set.
Shortly thereafter followed the evening's highlight, "In the New
Year," which tied all of the seams together perfectly, jolting the
audience to life after being appropriately dedicated to the Obamas.
This song, perhaps the best in the band's entire canon, sounded
infinitely better than its closest-thing-to-a-hit "The Rat" from
2004's "Bows + Arrows", which suffered a muddy, organ-heavy mix
that seemed to swallow up some of the material performed from the
band's previous albums.
"On the Water" and "Donde Esta La Playa" buoyed the atmosphere and
continued the winning formula, as did the charming tropical breeze
of "Canadian Girl." Finally, the gorgeous piano that failed to cut
through most of the set was audible on encore "We've Been Had"
which sounded even better than its album counterpart on 2002's
"Everyone Who Pretended To Like Me Is Now Gone".
A cover of the Kinks' "Come Dancing" made perfect sense as a
finale, making great use of the horn section and Leithauser's
spot-on impression of Ray Davies' impression of a happy-go-lucky
Caribbean crooner.
The Walkmen are clearly knowledgeable about the depths of musical
arrangement, vintage gear and recording techniques, and probably
have near-encyclopedic awareness of genres and time periods of
music that most people have never heard of. Accordingly, they seem
careful to keep themselves contained in that world, far removed
from the mainstream.
But sometimes, the walls the band has seemingly built around itself
can be a hindrance to its music. Having the coolest rare bass
guitar from the '50s doesn't mean it's going to provide a necessary
low-end thrust to a rock song in 2009. Several songs suffered from
this and wound up sounding like the band was playing with one hand
tied behind its back. Instead, the Walkmen were at their best when
using all that musical knowledge as a springboard to harness their
own unique songwriting.
Baltimore's Beach House played a well-received opening set touching
on material from both its albums, most notably from last year's
"Devotion." Victoria Legrand and Alex Scally infused "Wedding Bell"
and "Heart of Chambers" with beautifully interlaced guitar,
keyboard and vocal melodies, loaded with delicious tones, misty
melancholy and hazy ambience. The songs bled into each other with a
monochromatic wash, but the coloring was interesting enough to hold
the audience captive.