Containing three former members of much-lamented New York buzz band Jonathan Fire Eater, who self-destructed before striking gold, the Walkmen seem determined not to repeat past mistakes. They marked their return with an unassuming self-titled EP and spent a meandering year on the club circuit before properly breaking this, their first full-length album, with a song loaned out to a car commercial. "Sometimes I'm just happy I'm older," sings Hamilton Leithasuer over the rolling, toy piano melody of "We've Been Had." While on the brittle, angular "Revenge Wears No Wristwatch," he whines, "I've heard it all before / I've had it up to here." But for all the dashed expectations and lingering regret, the Walkmen still look unblinkingly forward. The music here is intense and inventive, combining garage rock, cabaret pomp, and carnival melodies, while still sounding oddly tuneful. Fans of U2 and the Cure should investigate the Walkmen. --Aidin Vaziri
Walkmen
Everyone Who Pretended to Like Me Is Gone
[StarTime; 2002]
Rating: 8.7
The buzz on this record has been released upon us like a cloud of Prada-clad insects: the Walkmen have been on MTV all week, and the Village Voice has instructed me to consider them my "favorite new band." Formed two years ago with members of Jonathan Fire*eater and the Recoys, they already sound like they've been making the rounds for years and are eyeing some arena dates. In fact, they're thinking so big that they're already worried that Sony could sue them over their bandname.
And I don't see anything wrong with that. It's actually refreshing to hear a new band that seems so confident. It's not that they sound commercial-- yet-- but that they remind us that "pop" stands for popular. From the start of Everyone Who Pretended to Like Me Is Gone, their first full-length, they aim high: the two minute warm-up of "They're Winning" comes throbbing from the ether like a machine revving to life; and on "Warm Up" that machine is taking bold strides-- the guitar attack, the brutish drums, and Hamilton Leithauser's showmanlike vocals rage in unison. Leithauser is being compared to other rock vocalists, and as one reference point, he sounds like Bono: he veers to the high end of his range and he's not afraid to make every note sound important. But more crucially, he's a true frontman. He's remarkably self-assured and you can hear his exertion, particularly on the potential single, "We've Been Had."
The Walkmen record in their own studio, Marcata Recording, and they've nailed their sound: Everyone Who Pretended is a pleasure to listen to, a visceral recording with a large soundscape. The palette is also nicely limited: the atmospheric sweeps come from many sources but they have a consistent feel, and the most prominent sounds are the basic drums, bass and guitar that anchor each track. The Walkmen have one innovative texture: an upright piano that's recorded with a warbly, slightly distant sound, like small rocks knocking against each other in the sea. It sounds so neat that Paul Maroon can just idly twinkle out notes, like the plinks that dot "Revenge Wears No Wristwatch." Its texture even dominates the quiet "Stop Talking" and the creepy introduction to "Roll Down the Line," and it carries the pretty, rolling melody of "The Blizzard of ’96."
The piano helps create their signature sound without becoming a distraction, and also, it's just nice to hear a band use stark arrangements-- for example, the album closer, "I'm Never Bored," starts with just drums and vocals until Maroon and Leithauser layer in the piercing and grinding guitars. These guys play quietly and simply enough that when they pile on the sound, well... it's pretty damn magnificent.
The songwriting on Everyone Who Pretended is solid, but it's the title track that really impresses. It harkens back to bands like U2 or the Cure-- not just in tone, but in magnitude: skyscraping guitar smears and then a striking riff, the texture taking flight, and Leithauser insinuating his vocals on top, never weighing down a song that's already soaring. The only complaint you could make is that it's too short-- that, in under four minutes, they play a song that sounds like it should go on for eight or nine, with big video screens looming behind and Leithauser doing something filthy to the mike stand.
Remember when U2 was younger and hungrier, and Bono could sing about "the desert sky" so boldly that you could picture it? It's rare today to hear a rock band think that way. This is why the Walkmen deserve attention. There must be some way to make the kids rebellious and excited about the things of this earth, and when I hear a song as vast and propulsive as this one, it gives me hope.
-Chris Dahlen, April 8th, 2002
Review by Charles Spano
Waves of dark, shimmering guitar riffs cascade over you as the Walkmen conjure up ghosts of the Velvet Underground on "They're Winning," the introduction to the band's debut, Everyone Who Pretended to Like Me Is Gone. Made up of three survivors of the industry's one-time "future of rock & roll" band, Jonathan Fire*Eater (organist Walter Martin, guitarist Paul Maroon, and drummer Matt Barrick), along with bassist Peter Bauer and vocalist Hamilton Leithauser, the Walkmen combine the aforementioned group's skewed mod rock minus the major-label polish. Everyone Who Pretended to Like Me Is Gone points at the band's roots -- New York City's late-'70s/early-'80s CBGB's scene. It is not so much that the Walkmen sound like Television or the Talking Heads or Blondie, but that they, like their NYC peers Interpol, the French Kicks, and Radio 4, evoke the gritty, urban energy so well. "Wake Up," previously released on the band's debut EP, is downright eerie as vocalist Hamilton Leithauser moans over the twisting melody. The title track is an intense spiral of space rock with spare but melodramatic string flourishes. "Revenge Wears No Wristwatch" is so stripped that it is propelled almost entirely by the drumbeat. "The Blizzard of '96," "Stop Talking," and the strangely catchy "We've Been Had" chime like a broken music box with an off-kilter, storybook glimmer. What world do these songs come from? Clearly, it is someplace magical -- a Tim Burton dream, a Wim Wenders skyline, maybe a comic book Gotham or manga artist Paul Pope's futuristic curry-scented, Tokyo-ized New York City. But, wherever it is, you'll be drawn into the parallel universe as soon as you push "play."
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