Hamilton Leithauser: This Side of the Island

Yes, The Walkmen were such a thing. A thing that just had to sprout from NYC in the year 2000. A time when the city was at its height. Just before it got smashed. And whether or not that quashed its sprit and creative output is still in doubt. But that band’s leader, Hamilton Leithauser continues to produce Walkmen-like music to this day. And we are all weirder for it. Because his theatrical Dylan / Tom Petty / Elvis Costello delivery cannot be denied. And his energy and ability to continue to write compelling music is pretty darned cool.

I’m not really sure how to classify his art. It’s throw-backy and odd around the edges, but also incredibly tuneful and catchy. But not at all pop in the normal sense. Especially when you have little The Dream of the Blue Turtles sax runs and drums that roll and crash more than they keep precise time. But they also keep time. Everything is kind of pushed forward in the mix and seems to be blowing the air around the room. As if that’s a thing. You know, tambourines bang, amp tubes are pushed to their breaking point, the old piano in the studio is put to good use with some plinks and plonks, and whatever is lying around gets into the mix.

The whole record feels very organic and weirdly unplanned. Even Leithauser’s vocal choices, as his voice gets reedy and then not, feel in-the-moment. Such a unique style that I’m not smart enough to identify, but definitely has that “Rainy Day Women #12 & 35” vocal yo-yo-ing style at times. None of it feels frivolous or juvenile, which is good in your more mature artists. He’s not bowing to trends or pretending that puppy love is still a thing in his world. No, this is an adult-ass man singing about adult-ass things. Not like carpool and stuff. But also not partying it up at the disco or whatever the kids do these days.

This is a pretty upbeat album for Leithauser, and I really enjoy him not getting into his dirges, which can happen. It’s an incredibly fun record and immensely listenable. I will throw it on at a party and people will think I’m cool. And won’t screw up their faces the way they do when I throw on some post-punk nonsense that hurts them in their soul. Because this is soul.