The Walkmen – Lisbon The Walkmen – Lisbon

The Walkmen - Lisbon

Somewhere, it’s the perfect day in New York City.

Somewhere, the sun will shine or the clouds will gather or the snow will fill the sepia streets as some young lover shuffles his way past the glowing lights or furtive dreams or irresistible electric color of samba rising up from a basement Buena Vista or he’ll happen upon an old flame and they’ll watch her name go up on the marquee and he’ll be jealous or he’ll be proud or he’ll take success as inspiration or maybe he’ll stop in for a drink just like Phillip Marlowe did and there’ll be no charge because the waitress thinks any man who orders a gimlet is sexy and she’ll have legs that go all the way and maybe he’ll have too many and kiss her or maybe he’ll make a friend with some semi-famous drunk and talk, at length, about how Dee Dee wrote the best Ramones songs or maybe he’ll skip the bar entirely and just smoke cigarettes looking for the place where he once wrote their names in the sidewalk (back when they equaled forever) and, maybe, it’ll still be true and she’ll call him and their broken hearts will be full again or maybe he’ll just smile, knowing and walk on to where someone better, someone right, someone who made him into the man he always knew he could be is waiting.

And they will sit on the couch and kiss all night, long past the dogs and neighbors are fast
asleep.

And they’ll listen to the Walkmen.

Because the Walkmen are a lovers’ band. They always have been. From their shambolic inception through their dark drunks and blistering insularity to the new, tender glory of Lisbon, the Walkmen have written songs for the heart filled with promise.

They write the songs of New York City. Not as it is, but as it should be. As it was. As it remains for those of us who call this town our home no matter how crude or overpriced or demeaning her incessant shimmer can be.

We all came here for a reason. Most of us left, but the better stayed because of the possibility that still lingers in her golden streets is unlike anything, anywhere else in the world. New York City is something beyond her population. Above her skyscrapers and urban decay. She is a symbol of America’s memory. She is a beacon for all the artists and activists and utter lunatics who still believe that somehow, someway they will be great.

And the Walkmen are her emissaries.

Track List:
1. Juveniles
2. Angela Surf City
3. Follow the Leader
4. Blue as Your Blood
5. Stranded
6. Victory Listen
7. All My Great Designs
8. Woe Is Me
9. Torch Song
10. While I Shovel the Snow
11. Lisbon

The Walkmen - Lisbon, reviewed by Charles on 2010-10-04T15:06:46+00:00 rating 4.5 out of 5



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