The newest from the New York rockers is another in a string of terrific releases.
With the surge of rock revivalists in New York in the early 2000s, NYC quintet The Walkmen took a backseat to their musical counterparts The Strokes, Interpol and The Yeah Yeah Yeahs for much of the decade. The group grabbed an appearance in the O.C., but for the most part, the band has stayed out of the limelight. That's probably because much of their music doesn’t focus on the catchy hooks and memorable choruses that bring the masses; instead, they've stuck to their atmospheric, brooding sound that is centered around frontman Hamilton Leithauser’s Dylan-esque croon.
But over the decade (and five albums), the often-understated group has built up a reputation of making frenetic, jangly indie rock among the finest in its class. Their sixth effort, Lisbon, is named after one of their favorite touring cities, and contains a sound to match the city; the album is sunnier with plenty of Latin accents to boot. While less gloomy than their past efforts, Lisbon is still a mood-driven album that grows with each successive listen.
Lisbon opens with “Juveniles,” which has its resounding lead guitar gracefully trailing Leithauser’s distinctive delivery. “Angela Surf City” is light, fun surf-rock, but still maintains their signature shaky anxiety that builds to an abounding chorus. The nervous pacing of “Blue As Your Blood” finds Leithauser damaged and restless from a broken heart, which is expertly delivered with the metronomic guitar rhythm and Leithauser’s affecting vocals.
The Walkmen have always been suckers for nostalgia, both in their production and their instrumentation, and Lisbon is no exception. “Follow the Leader” is a two-minute sonic demonstration of the sort of musical interaction and echo of Elvis’s early singles. Lisbon’s heart-rending lead single, “Stranded," is an improbable one, considering this is the same band that released the angsty anthem “The Rat” six years ago. The song is the sort old-souled, lovelorn balladry that’s simply transformative. "Torch Song" is an ethereal ode to love lost with ruminating piano and Beatles-y “oohs,” “ahhs” and “la-las."
Whereas The Walkmen’s last album, You and Me, was insular and paranoid in its sound, Lisbon goes outside and breathes in some fresh air. The splashy drums and ringing guitar of “Woe Is Me” is a bright spot, fitting with the trending West Coast sound of bands like Best Coast and Vampire Weekend. “While I Shovel the Snow” is a gentle, wintry waltz reflecting on life through the scenery in the air.
Lisbon does, however, have a few shortcomings. The album’s apex, the bombastic “Victory,” though packed full of energy, falls flat with its shrieking and tedious chorus. “All My Great Designs” follows, and stands as the weakest of Lisbon’s five ballads, and the self-titled closer is pleasant yet fairly forgetful.
Like the music of The National, Lisbon is world-weary and heartbreaking, but much grace and beauty shines through the elegant, ornate composition and Leithauser’s poetic words. Lisbon is the look of a band maturing nicely, and will hopefully serve to bring The Walkmen out from the shadows and into the spotlight.
