The flavor of the month

by Marc Burkhardt

Alt-rock is full of nice kids with good intentions. Shunning production gloss, radio-ready melodies and "Maxim" magazine covers, hundreds of disaffected, arty suburbanite bands lovingly craft irony-drenched obscurities to entertain and enlighten hundreds of their similarly disaffected, arty peers.

Whether they call it "retro-pop," "post-rock," "alt-country" or "garage rock," the current generation of alternative bands share two characteristics: ironic detachment from their respective lyrical topics and an emphasis on instrumental textures over song craft. Enter The Walkmen, a Washington D.C. combo that pushes all the right buttons for bands that consider themselves cutting edge. A little bit of Dylan here (a crucial ingredient to justify cryptic lyrics), some Echo and the Bunnymen and U2 there (can't forget about that '80s post-punk revival).

The band's latest album, "Bows + Arrows," recalls those touchstones and several others (the ghosts of Television and the Pixies are among the spirits exhumed) in an admittedly skillful synthesis of texture and attitude. Distorted organ, tasteful piano interludes and raw explosions of rock guitar hit at the proper moments and Hamilton Leithauser's vocals span the necessary range from angry to dreamy.

The problem, as is the case with much alt-rock these days, is the lack of discernible tunes. The pieces -- proudly sporting such clever titles as "No Christmas While I'm Talking" and "Little House of Savages" -- sound great but lack any clear message or melody to truly engage a listener -- an affliction that never plagued the bands The Walkmen so obviously love.

Once the CD is over, it's over. Off to the next flavor of the month...

Fans of Wilco's acclaimed "Yankee Hotel Foxtrot" -- the king of textural music -- will find many enjoyable moments on "Bows + Arrows." The rest of us can just, well, walk on by.
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