[SIMG]http://i235.photobucket.com/albums/ee136/anuransol/walkmen-sml-1.jpg[/SIMG]
By Luke Pimentel
2007.11
Weeknight concerts are only for the brave.
After weathering a full day of work, migrating sixty miles from wine country to San Francisco, and enduring a marathon parking nightmare outside of tiny residential venue The Independent (okay, my friend Chris drove – fair’s fair), I was more than ready to curl up with a nice fat pillow and saw logs by the time New York indie rockers The Walkmen hit the stage. Judging by the near catatonic shuffle/sway that infected the rest of the audience, I was not alone.
Must’ve just been a slow night for the city, though, because the band rocked pretty hard.
You’ve probably heard The Walkmen before; they’re one of those bands everybody’s heard at least once, often without knowing it. They’ve been kicking around since 2000, and have turned their unique fusion of retro garage chic and dreamy shoegaze pop into occasional crossover success, dropping the odd tune that gets swiped up for a Saturn commercial or video game, and briefly becomes a hit jingle for America’s primetime consumption.
To their credit, the five-piece has not been content to coast on such exposure. 2006 saw them release a pair of highly unconventional efforts, one a track-by-track cover of the 1974 Harry Nilsson album Pussy Cats, the other an original LP called A Hundred Miles Off, which found them adding unusual instrumentations like mariachi trumpets to their core sound.
Tuesday night’s setlist was further proof the band are determined to follow their own muse; there was no “We’ve Been Had,” no “The Rat,” no “Rue the Day” to be found anywhere. Instead, the set heavily favored tunes from A Hundred Miles Off and showcased a healthy dose of new material being road-tested for their forthcoming album, tentatively due next Spring. This may have disappointed fans looking for material from their critically-adored early albums; nevertheless, it’s refreshing to see a band that doesn’t feel the need to force its best-known material into listeners’ ears, even at the risk of losing commercial viability.
Although they began drifting away from a key-dominated sound with A Hundred Miles Off, keys are still the backbone of their live show. Walter Martin and Peter Bauer traded off bass and keyboard duties throughout the set, with Bauer doing an uncanny Steve Nieve impression as he hunched over both organ and upright piano. Depending on which of those two instruments was being played, the band sounded like either New Wave post-punkers or a nickelodeon soundtrack to the silent movie of your dreams. The alternating clangs and bleeps dueled it out with the vocals of Leithauser, whose distinctive wiry tenor is even more impressive live than it is in the studio; his lungs have enough energy to power the Bronx in mid-August, and it was enthralling just to watch him teeter at the edge of the stage and belt. Drummer Matt Barrick stomped out dirge-like beats on the drum kit, and Paul Maroon filled the gaps with slabs of Rickenbacker guitar drone.
Peter Bauer of the Walkmen. Photo by Luke Pimentel.
Hamilton Leithauser of the Walkmen. Photo by Luke Pimentel.
The set unfolded at a stately pace – they ain’t called the Runmen, after all – and there was little interaction with the crowd, save a few scant mumbles from Leithauser. This may have contributed to the slightly dozy vibe that haunted the venue. The set, however, was tight and focused from note one, with the band sapping every last ounce of build-up it could from its trademark sustained chord progressions and shimmering emotional crescendos. Leithauser and Co. did extend the occasional olive branch by dropping in familiar goodies, like a wonderful, driving “138th Street” (from 2004’s Bows + Arrows) and, during the encore, a blistering rendition of “Wake Up” (from the band’s brilliant debut, 2002’s Everyone Who Pretended To Like Me Is Gone) which – finally – got members of the audience exhibiting some voluntary motion.
Although the recent impression is that The Walkmen have dropped off the map a bit since the release of A Hundred Miles Off, the solid attendance and plethora of cameras lining the stage Tuesday night indicated that the band still draws plenty of interest from fans and the press. Also, given that the two opening acts – The Subjects and The Weather Underground - sounded virtually identical to The Walkmen, it’s clear that the band’s influence on alternative rock is secure. Tuesday’s gig was a nice reminder that they won’t be going away any time soon and that the indie scene is a better place because of it.
By Luke Pimentel
2007.11
Weeknight concerts are only for the brave.
After weathering a full day of work, migrating sixty miles from wine country to San Francisco, and enduring a marathon parking nightmare outside of tiny residential venue The Independent (okay, my friend Chris drove – fair’s fair), I was more than ready to curl up with a nice fat pillow and saw logs by the time New York indie rockers The Walkmen hit the stage. Judging by the near catatonic shuffle/sway that infected the rest of the audience, I was not alone.
Must’ve just been a slow night for the city, though, because the band rocked pretty hard.
You’ve probably heard The Walkmen before; they’re one of those bands everybody’s heard at least once, often without knowing it. They’ve been kicking around since 2000, and have turned their unique fusion of retro garage chic and dreamy shoegaze pop into occasional crossover success, dropping the odd tune that gets swiped up for a Saturn commercial or video game, and briefly becomes a hit jingle for America’s primetime consumption.
To their credit, the five-piece has not been content to coast on such exposure. 2006 saw them release a pair of highly unconventional efforts, one a track-by-track cover of the 1974 Harry Nilsson album Pussy Cats, the other an original LP called A Hundred Miles Off, which found them adding unusual instrumentations like mariachi trumpets to their core sound.
Tuesday night’s setlist was further proof the band are determined to follow their own muse; there was no “We’ve Been Had,” no “The Rat,” no “Rue the Day” to be found anywhere. Instead, the set heavily favored tunes from A Hundred Miles Off and showcased a healthy dose of new material being road-tested for their forthcoming album, tentatively due next Spring. This may have disappointed fans looking for material from their critically-adored early albums; nevertheless, it’s refreshing to see a band that doesn’t feel the need to force its best-known material into listeners’ ears, even at the risk of losing commercial viability.
Although they began drifting away from a key-dominated sound with A Hundred Miles Off, keys are still the backbone of their live show. Walter Martin and Peter Bauer traded off bass and keyboard duties throughout the set, with Bauer doing an uncanny Steve Nieve impression as he hunched over both organ and upright piano. Depending on which of those two instruments was being played, the band sounded like either New Wave post-punkers or a nickelodeon soundtrack to the silent movie of your dreams. The alternating clangs and bleeps dueled it out with the vocals of Leithauser, whose distinctive wiry tenor is even more impressive live than it is in the studio; his lungs have enough energy to power the Bronx in mid-August, and it was enthralling just to watch him teeter at the edge of the stage and belt. Drummer Matt Barrick stomped out dirge-like beats on the drum kit, and Paul Maroon filled the gaps with slabs of Rickenbacker guitar drone.
Peter Bauer of the Walkmen. Photo by Luke Pimentel.
Hamilton Leithauser of the Walkmen. Photo by Luke Pimentel.
The set unfolded at a stately pace – they ain’t called the Runmen, after all – and there was little interaction with the crowd, save a few scant mumbles from Leithauser. This may have contributed to the slightly dozy vibe that haunted the venue. The set, however, was tight and focused from note one, with the band sapping every last ounce of build-up it could from its trademark sustained chord progressions and shimmering emotional crescendos. Leithauser and Co. did extend the occasional olive branch by dropping in familiar goodies, like a wonderful, driving “138th Street” (from 2004’s Bows + Arrows) and, during the encore, a blistering rendition of “Wake Up” (from the band’s brilliant debut, 2002’s Everyone Who Pretended To Like Me Is Gone) which – finally – got members of the audience exhibiting some voluntary motion.
Although the recent impression is that The Walkmen have dropped off the map a bit since the release of A Hundred Miles Off, the solid attendance and plethora of cameras lining the stage Tuesday night indicated that the band still draws plenty of interest from fans and the press. Also, given that the two opening acts – The Subjects and The Weather Underground - sounded virtually identical to The Walkmen, it’s clear that the band’s influence on alternative rock is secure. Tuesday’s gig was a nice reminder that they won’t be going away any time soon and that the indie scene is a better place because of it.
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