By Jennifer Nine

A dusk-to-dawn song cycle; lavish, lush and cinematic. And I'm quite sure it wasn't the money, but it helps.

There's always been a frustrating side to the critical plaudits decorating Seattle's Walkabouts, who, before they signed to Virgin an album ago, were Sub Pop's best kept (or was that least-funded?) secret. At times, Chris Eckman, Carla Torgerson and band seemed like the secret property of critics, other bands and European audiences who filled the halls when Americans remained oblivious. From 1988's "See Beautiful Rattlesnake Gardens" to the present, their albums were things of sparse, raw-boned beauty; rich seams of country-folk Americana mined Eckman's post-Cohen George Jones and Torgerson's unbouffant Tammy Wynette, two voices waltzing with the weary grace of depression-era dance marathon contestants. But that and 10 cents, buddy....

I've no illusions that this gem will permit them to abandon dignified obscurity. But in the meantime, this is one astonishingly lovely record. Produced by Bad Seeds cohort Victor Van Vugt, strewn with gorgeously arranged strings and horns and the warm pulse of moog and mellotron, these songs shift the band sound into rich, Technicolor wide-screen for the first time.

And it slips down like silk; begins with church bells and the sultry storm cloud of "Follow Me an Angel" as Eckman's deep, sung-spoken baritone suggests late period Robbie Robertson and his guitar leads, the fluid emotionalism of a restrained Neil Young. From start to finish, sheer delight: the swelling, effortless grace of "Lay Your Burdens Down" and then "Tremble (Goes the Night)"; the bitter bite of "Slow Red Dawn"; a "Prayer for You" that could sit quite comfortably on Nick Cave's "The Boatman's Call".

It sounds, simply, like the Walkabouts finally had the luxury of time and a little money. Now it's time to give them yours: "Nighttown", in a long line of small masterpieces, is a big one.

by Peter Kane

The Walkabouts are clearly keen to make up for lost time. After a decade of lo-fi rural neglect, they finally began to get noticed with the skid-row country slant of last year's 'Devil's Road.' 'Nighttown' takes the ambitions of Carla Torgerson and Chris Eckman still further by coming up with a set of vaguely linked songs inspired by the kind of things that go on after dark in the big city. It's a pretty bleak vision, but instead of one lonesome fiddle there's now a whole orchestra swirling away to heighten the tension. Surprisingly, it works a treat, with the two singers taking it in turns on 'Heartless' and 'Follow Me an Angel' to pitch for the kind of damaged souls who inhabit the small hours. A work with a mournful majesty all of its own. (Rating: 4 out of 5 stars.)

by Chris Nickson

By and large the American-record industry has never been noted for its intelligence. Certainly the major labels tend to operate somewhere around the lowest common denominator, but even the indies aren't exactly challenging MENSA. So what brings this on? The release of yet another grand album by the Walkabouts, who remain Seattle's best-kept secret in this country because no label wants to release their material domestically. Yes, I know Sub Pop issued a couple, but how long ago was that? The better part of a decade. In that time the band has taken giant strides. On Nighttown they have a new bassist (Baker from Mad Season), and a sound that's developed from Devil's Road to become decidedly urban and, at times, quite groove-oriented.

Victor Van Vugt's production seems to lay bare the heartbeat of Chris Eckman's songs, to have the arrangements (even more strings than the last album) clothe them, sometimes in elegant tailoring, sometimes in funkier, second-hand threads. This record builds on the last one. It takes chances and makes a leap of faith, but that's what the very best rock 'n' roll has always been about.

Sadly, in a country that takes Dumb and Dumber and Weezer to its heart, those ideas (and, god forbid, intelligence in music) are roundly ignored. And that's more than sad, it's an utterly shameful comment on the way the whole business is structured. When music this good can't find an outlet here - and the Walkabouts aren't the only band in that boat, it just happens that they're our band - maybe some very serious rethinking is in order. And if you hadn't already gathered, the record is a bloody marvel. It's just unfortunate you'll have to pay the higher import price to own it.

by Martin Aston

After living in the shadow of Seattle's grunge continent - they were signed to Sub Pop before Virgin - the Walkabouts are about as 'now' as they'll ever be. On 'Nighttown,' followers of rock noir willing to include a less wrist-slashing romance in their belief system will find plenty to chew on: the band have shifted their bittersweet folk-rural inflections into the city. Cue nocturnal despair, dark shadows, last chances and a 13-song cycle set between duck and dawn that starts with a hopeful 'Follow Me an Angel' and pavement-crawls through the after-hours somnambulism of 'Nightbirds.' Chris Eckman and Carla Torgerson make a haunting, Cave-and-Kylie duo and the band play like it's permanently 3a.m. It's classic or cliched, depending on your viewpoint - song titles include 'Nocturno,' 'Slow Red Dawn' and 'Forever Gone' - but the Walkabouts know beautiful despair when it smacks them in the face, and besides, Leonard Cohen's getting on a bit these days.

by Joe Jackson

If ever a single phrase summed up the sound, feel, philosophical base and textures of an album it is the reference to "Scott Walker Street" in this album's 'Tremble (Goes the Night).' All this music does walk about that street. In other words, what ridiculously under-rated Seattle-based anti-grunge band The Walkabouts have created this time round is a magnificent lean and moody song cycle set in those wee small hours between midnight and dawn. Carla Torgerson and Chris Eckman sing in as seductive a manner as Joyce's sirens in his night-town and the rest of the band weave their magical spell like tourist guides on Prozac. But from the opening track, 'Follow Me An Angel' to closing-time courtesy of 'Nightbirds,' you won't be sleeping, you'll be swooning. If you love shadowy romantics like Scott Walker, you'll adore The Walkabouts.

It's criminal how bands like The Walkabouts remain largely unknown in this country when the charts are so often full of rubbish. But if they keep on producing records of the quality of 'Nighttown' success must surely come their way one day.

Whether it's with songs like the moody 'Follow Me an Angel,' 'Nightbirds' and 'Tremble (Goes The Night)' or the lovely melodic music of 'Lift Your Burdens Up' and 'These Proud Streets' The Walkabouts offer a classy style that comes in somewhere between the Beautiful South and Nick Cave.

LP rating: 7 out of 10

After the country-flavored wonders, of last year's mighty 'Devil's Road' LP, Seattle's Walkabouts stroll into Nick Cave and Tindersticks territory for 'Nighttown.' Produced by Victor Van Vugt (Cave, and Beth Orton), Nighttown is a dark and lavishly orchestral journey through lonely, late-night city streets. It's a bleak, rain-battered and neon-lit world of cafes, fucked-up fools and waiting rooms; distant gun shots, howling cats and the hiss of passing taxis. The vocal duo of Chris Eckman and Carla Torgerson has seldom sounded better, their lovelorn and lusty tones tenderly ushering you from dusk to dawn. The slow grind of 'Unwind' would sit comfortably next to any Portishead groove, while 'Tremble (Goes The Night)' sounds like Lloyd Cole at his darkest. And while the setting is distinctly urban, there is still a country feel to some of 'Nighttown.' A gorgeously gruesome affair.

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