The Walkmen took a working holiday from their usual sound on their remake of
Harry Nilsson's
Pussy Cats and, to a lesser extent, on the
Dylan-goes-Latin vibe of
A Hundred Miles Off, but they return to more familiar territory on
You & Me. Quite literally, too: the band revisited the same studio where they laid down
Bows + Arrows for some of this album's sessions. However, travel is one of
You & Me's major themes, with beaches, holidays, and provinces placing these songs all over the map. That plays perfectly into
the Walkmen's uncanny ability to conjure specific places in their music:
"Donde Esta La Playa," from its turista title to its deconstructed surf guitars to lyrics like "there is still sand in my suitcase/there is still salt in my teeth," plays like blurry but vivid memories -- and proof that not everything that happens on vacation stays on vacation. Grotto-like reverb gives
"Postcards from Tiny Islands"' riotous guitars a nostalgic twinge only heightened by small but telling details like "the bar band and their sorry songs."
The Walkmen also travel through different sounds on
You & Me:
"Red Moon"'s gentle acoustic guitars and brass give it a subtly Latin feel, while
"Canadian Girl"'s dreamy warmth suggests a vintage soul single that's been tucked away for decades in a forgotten jukebox.
You & Me's return to
the Walkmen's usual shadowy, introspective moodiness feels like a cloud covering the sun, especially after the drunken wake of
Pussy Cats. Fortunately, that cloudiness suits these songs, particularly
"On the Water," a darkly pretty ballad lit by faintly shimmering keyboards, and
"In the New Year," which sets a bruised melody to jubilant organ swells that only sound more poignant together. Despite a few louder moments like
"Seven Years of Holidays (For Stretch)"'s shambling waltz and
"Blue Route"'s gut-punching drums,
You & Me delves deeply into the evocative ballads that have made the band fascinating since
Everyone Who Pretended to Like Me Is Gone. The album closes with a trio of them, with the spare jangle of
"New Country" and
"If Only It Were True"'s final declaration "I'll die in dreams of you" ending
You & Me on a somberly sweet note. This may or may not be
the Walkmen's prettiest album, but it's certainly their loneliest. ~ Heather Phares