The Walkmen You & Me by: Thomas Mendelovits Wed:03-Sep-08 Label: Gigantic Year: 2008 WB rating 75 out of 100

Before Vampire Weekend and The Strokes redefined NYC art-prep rock, there was Jonathan Fire*Eater. When they lost their frontman and broke up, the remaining members added vocalist Hamilton Leithauser, and The Walkmen were born. Pinnacle of cool, torchbearers of the New York ‘sound’, The Walkmen were the original Ivy League musos; linen jacket and sweater adorned debonair gents par excellence. In their favour, the band’s music has always supported this imposing identity. With one of the most singular sounds in modern indie, and one of the most recognisable frontmen, breakthrough record Bows + Arrows (2004) – and the most famous song ‘The Rat’ from that record – rang with the kind of very self-righteous anger that makes indie-rock a great and valid art form. While mostly concerned lyrically with the fairly commonplace, Leithauser is of the rare breed of vocalist who imbues every word with alternating clarity and depth, cutting through banalities in the creation of a vivid truth. Fourth studio album proper You & Me finds The Walkmen in typically strong form. While the songs may not reach the bar set by the urgent brilliance of Bows + Arrows, their most recent effort proves that the awesome dynamic of the group may never dim.

At their best, The Walkmen represent one of the finest examples of the sound as art aesthetic, as most famously linked to the seminal Velvet Underground. Eschewing modern instruments and recording forms, The Walkmen create a dense landscape that puts most contemporary stylists to shame. From the first strains of You & Me, it is apparent that the five-piece have found more comfort than ever in their sound; ‘Dónde está la Playa’, with its rolling toms and grimy bass, sounds as though it could have come off an actual Walkman. The almost filmic texture of tracks such as ‘Dónde’ lends an antique aura to You & Me, but one which permeates far deeper than the audio production and chosen instrumentation. While they are, at heart, an indie-rock band of the highest order, The Walkmen are too great to play mere ‘rock’ songs. The band may light up and Leithauser may sound like a rock singer on songs such as ‘On the Water’ and ‘Postcards from Tiny Islands’, but there is as much pre-rock ‘n roll dance club croon as indie angst to these numbers.

On a formalistic level, You & Me continues in the path of previous releases: namely ragged jams peppered with horns, piano and non-standard percussion. The potential sweep of the band’s ability – first hinted at in the mariachi horns of ‘Louisiana’, from 2006’s A Hundred Miles Off – is both more nuanced and more downplayed on You & Me -- a sure sign of maturation. The horn section of ‘Red Moon’ is totally integral to the piano-based arrangement, but on the whole these flourishes are minimalist, and for good reason. At their most fundamental, the band possess a magical trinity in the sound founded on guitarist Paul Maroon’s open chord shapes, Walter Martin’s vintage organ collection and Matt Barrick’s jazzed-up Mo Tucker-esque drumming. It’s a formula as far-reaching and all encompassing as a band could wish for. At once ancient and urgent, it is what lends The Walkmen such potency.

It would be precarious to rely on this winning dynamic alone, however, and this is where You & Me is somewhat lacking. As a presence as indomitable as any of modern music’s great frontmen – backed by a similarly brilliant ensemble no less – it occasionally sounds as though Leithauser has merely to string some chords together, pen some words, vocalise them and his lyrics will resonate. And, as always, resonate they mostly do. On ‘Red Moon’ when he takes the focus and sings, almost solo: “darkness is wrapped all around me, tonight… I miss you/there’s no one else” it is a chillingly beautiful moment. Likewise, the pealing organs and galloping drums of ‘In the New Year’ matches, if not outshines, the furious expressionism of Bows + Arrows now-historic grandeur. For these moments alone, You & Me is a truly great recording, but overlong and slightly uninspired in patches, it is not a great record.