Hamilton Leithauser

Hamilton Leithauser, the hard-hitting, Carlyle-crooning frontman of The Walkmen, has worked the last eight years in the heart of Bedford Stuyvesant, writing and recording his new breakthrough solo record, This Side of the Island. Known for his evocative lyricism, quick wit, and distinctive voice, Leithauser has been a significant force in rock 'n' roll since the early 2000s NYC scene, transitioning smoothly from his band's successes to a flourishing solo career. This Side of the Island boldly turns away from the folk-rockvibes of his two previous records I Had a Dream That You Were Mine and The Loves of Your Life; and introduces a groovier, bass-heavy, modern sound—a sound undoubtedly influenced by several decades of music: Sly Stone’s There’s a Riot Goin’ On, Talking Heads’ Fear of Music, SZA’s SOS, Funkadelic’s Maggot Brain, Randy Newman’s Trouble in Paradise, Prince’s Parade, Panda Bear’s Panda Bear Meets the Grim Reaper, and Neil Young’s On the Beach (to name a few).

Hamilton loves working on his own schedule at his home studio, The Struggle Hut, but after eight years of playing myriad instruments, a visit to his old friend Aaron Dessner's upstate Long Pond Studio in the Spring of 2024 is what finally brought the album home. (Leithauser and Dessner originally met when the National opened for the Walkmen in 2001). Dessner, renowned for his work with The National, Taylor Swift, and Gracie Abrams (among many others), introduced an enormous modern sound, and played many different instruments on nearly every track. Leithauser says Dessner "raised the ceiling, and lowered the floor on the whole thing,” expanding the record's emotional and sonic depth. The collaboration resulted in a record that is both timeless and contemporary, cementing both as versatile and enduring artists in contemporary music.

“It took me eight years to make this,” Hamilton says, “Longer than any other record I’ve ever worked on. Barack Obama was president when I started “Fist of Flowers”! So much in my life has changed since I started—my daughters grew, I lost a lot of friends, and I lost my mother...and it seems like the whole world’s been turned upside down—I live a very different life now, but I still truly love writing, recording, and performing music.”

The lyrics on This Side of the Island showcase Hamilton’s unrelenting optimism and biting humor and as they consider heavy themes of solitude, love, loss, and resilience. Inspired by events in Hamilton’s personal life, the songs resonate deeply both in today's polarized social and political world, as the title track says “It’s not a beautiful country/as much as I’d like it to be”. “What do I know?” “What do I know?” “What do I know?” “What do I know?” —emphasize any word in that title and you’ll change the meaning. Kind of silly questions…until you start digging in. “When the singer burns her torch/no she will not be ignored, and I love her pain, and her pride and her shame/but what do I love now?” he asks himself.

“Ocean Roar" opens with Hamilton and his late friend Richard Swift smoking cigars in arental car on Wilshire boulevard, running through a churchyard in Montreal on LSD, and ends fifteen years later in Bedford Stuyvesant on Hamilton’s 40th birthday; capturing the passage of time and the permanence of loss “Down the flames go dancing into the cake/I wish you’d cuss and fuss with us today”. It’s not sentimental, it’s reality. “Knockin’ Heart” presents a determined, stoned, estranged lover dying to send a message: “From the barnyard to the bullfight/from the bleachers to the spotlight/from the factory to the junkyard/you’ll be knockin’ in my heart!!” In “Off the Beach”, the narrator recounts a series of failed marriages, but ends with the forlorned-yet-optimistic “it gets easier every time”. Both “Burn the Boats”, and album-opener “Fist of Flowers” offer undying-but-maybe-naive longings for nearby-but-maybe-unreachable people. Hamilton is routing for these people because he loves their passion, their determination, and their flaws; even if he might not see a happy ending (yet). At the end of the record, rather than presenting a resolution, or a lesson learned, he leaves us with something he does know…a simple, relatable emotion at full throttle: “I just want you to love me the way I love you”.