There's being bored, and there's being boring; but what about being bored of not being bored? It takes a gang of truly miserable motherfuckers to pull that conceit off, and on "Angela Surf City", the Walkmen do just that. Of course, it's not characteristic of these guys to show their cards right off the bat, so Hamilton Leithauser starts off sharing his concerns in that elegantly dour, slightly burnished croon of his: "Angela/ What's the difference?/ Today's a day like any other." He sounds a little annoyed, but it's mostly because he's tired of being alone again-- uh, sort of: "I dream of the time/ I was holding on to you/ For a lack of anything to do." So: he's frustrated, but he doesn't really care, and the music reflects that, as a taut Dick Dale-esque beat gives way to the kind of forest-fire anthemic burn that we've come to know and endlessly love from these NYC dapper dans. "Angela Surf City" is sardonic, sad-eyed, and loud all at once-- because, you know, it's the Walkmen.

[from Lisbon; out now via Fat Possum]