Bows and Arrows
(Record Collection)
Bows and Arrows surpasses the Walkmen’s stellar debut, the intermittently charming and haunting Everyone Who Pretended to Like Me is Gone—and that’s saying a lot. Equal parts lilting lullaby and drunken caterwaul, Bows and Arrows sounds like the demented brainchild of a beer-spattered New York hustler with only his inflated sense of self-importance for company. But through each bout of sonic schizophrenia, the Walkmen’s intent and delivery shine clear: each arrow reaches its target with the precision of a Tolkien elf to create gorgeously ethereal, emotionally wringing music.
Songs on Bows are cinematic—thick, sweeping layers of piano, guitar and organ produce compelling vignettes that dwarf the simplicity of lyrics. Hamilton Leithauser’s vocals glide and soar behind a scratchy veil, adding poignancy to the mundane actions and thoughts he sings about. On break-up lament “The North Pole,” he sounds on the verge of shattering as he howls, “Everybody knows / That’s the way it goes.” But the childlike “New Year’s Eve” finds him sweetly singing alongside a naive female voice and playful piano tingling. Innocent and wistful, he lulls, “But the more we talk the less we understand.”
The Walkmen sound achingly lonely, but underneath the forlorn abstraction of Bows and Arrows exists a strong sense of worth and grandiose awareness that saves them from ever falling into the grating woe-is-me whine that drowns lesser bands.
—Sarah L. Solorzano
Volcano, I’m Still Excited!!
Volcano, I’m Still Excited!!
(Polyvinyl)
The debut album from Volcano, I’m Still Excited!! is hard to really hate. The songs are tight, hook-filled and melodic. And when so many terrible voices rise to fame for the sake of their uniqueness, it’s nice to hear a traditional rock singer who can actually sing with confidence. The influence of conventionally gifted rock bands like The Wrens and Spoon is all over the place. The band seem to genuinely want to put together an album showing their deep association with everything that stands for indie rock today. Carnival casio synth, unexpected drum machine beats, interweaving vocal lines and stupid lyrics they probably regard as esoteric make it seem they might be trying too hard to capture this sound. Take for example “Trunk of My Car,” which starts out in a ghastly a capella round with lyrics awful enough to match. The two-minute “In Green” is the best track on the album, and only because it sounds like a lot of other better bands, distorted vocals bopping up and down a melodic line with falsetto “ahs” in the background. This illustrates the central problem with the album—at its best points, it’s simply derivative. Add annoying instrumental interludes and the idiotic “Two Exclamation Points” and the unfortunate result is a hard-to-hate album that you somehow still manage to hate.
—Christopher A. Kukstis