The Inside Pulse:
The Walkman are this band that plays with chords, makes four minute pop songs in the same vein as Black Rebel Motorcycle Club and the slower portions of Vines records. Their last album had what seemed to be a ‘hit’ in “The Rat”, but beyond that nothing about the band appears to be unique, artistic, or particularly musically adept. With their latest release, I can only imagine they would want to broaden their musical horizons, take some risks, and generally prove to people that there are good reasons for their existance.
The whole album is pretty consistent, I’ll give it that. You can listen to the whole thing and not ever be particularly sure when they are switching tunes. The pace is that of a drive down a back road, kicking up dust on your pickup. It’s that kind of rock and roll, the sort that is recorded dirty so that they don’t appear to be manufactured. They succeed at this.
There is absolutely no reason for this album to exist. The best parts of the record – such as “Emma, Get Me A Lemon” – were done in a better fashion on the previous record. It’s hard to actually test this theory more than a few times, though, because the band seems so preoccupied with having this ‘sound’ to them that they forget to incorporate any ‘music’ in there. It’s a damn dreary record, to be truthful. At all times, the guitarist is playing this set of chords that never ends. He never takes a rest. It’s so much more annoying than it sounds.
Black Rebel Motorcycle Club with a lack of talent and direction.
Reason To Buy:
Your ears haven’t bled for a while? Seriously, pass on this one.