photos by weworemasks

The Walkmen’s Hamilton Leithauser has got one great big blustery voice – a robust howl so striking and sonorous, it threatened to drown out the eardrums of the overly packed Fitzerald’s crowd last Friday evening. And what a diverse Houston crowd there was in attendance – from the hipster mainstays whose bathroom graffiti had long since been painted over by the venue’s posh makeover, to your beer-guzzling jocks, whose excess of front-facing camera photo opps exposed their greenness to the whole concert-going experience, a whole spectrum of Houstonian stereotypes saved the date and joined in for what was one of the most face-melting, eardrum-ringing shows in recent memory.

Hit the jump for the review.

– sunbear

There’s something that the New York City five-piece want us to know about them. Hell, they’ve practically been bellowing it to us lustily with the last stretch of recent albums. Turn to the back cover photo of The Walkmen’s Heaven lp, the one where the band is sat on a couch with their own toddler’s crowding their laps. These guys, the ones who used to mourn the sad truth that they spend their nights alone, rather than in the company of familiarity now have something to anchor that restlessness and find them settling into a new groove: fatherhood.

Many might see the giant leap into adulthood as a turning point in the careers of the formerly brash, piss and vinegar-fueled indie band, but the band themselves are embracing the change and transitioning into contemplative and content sages. Sages with the muscular yet reined-in power of rock.

The Walkmen took to the Fitzgerald’s stage with the awesome force of the exuberant “The Love You Love,” immediately stirring the packed room into a frenzy that only let up when the band broke from the heartier songs of their catalogue to the ruminative cushioning of songs like the delicate “Hold on Siobhan” and the music box tinkle of “We’ve Been Had.” Houston is not a very ballad-friendly city and the band was nearly lost in the fidgety chatter of inane conversations by a hefty portion of the crowd. Luckily, the rickety clip-clop of “Blue as Your Blood” snapped everyone back to attention (or was it the high-spirited drumming of Matt Barrick?).

The title track to the band’s most recent lp Heaven, really struck a triumphant chord as the set’s closing song, house lights turned all the way up to reveal an audience rocking out just as vigorously as the action onstage.

For over an hour, The Walkmen bellowed out an enthusiasm and brawn that proved that rather than slowing down in their 10 year existence as a band, they had really hit their stride and were a more focused, disciplined machine for it.

Los Angeles openers Milo Greene brought four piece harmonies and an organic warmth to the night that was very well received by the early Fitz audience. The members of the band were a winding wheel of talent, changing instruments between every song and even throwing a very-much appreciated Sufjan Stevens cover of “Chicago” into their set of self-titled album material.