Why the National is the best band ever, at least for now...

I first experienced the band, the National, while scanning a list of live concerts posted on National Public Radio’s All Songs Considered podcasts.  I discovered listed there a number of concerts performed by bands who were obtaining exposure through various websites and other media but who still remained obscure at least to me.  You can find find the website here: www.npr.org/series/live-in-concert/. 

With roots in the mid-west, the band gelled in New York City, which agrees with their sound and message oozing from their songs.  The band begs comparisons with Joy Division, its melancholic sadness, played quietly and softly, the lyrics crooned by the baritone Matt Beringer, so subtle that the profound words might escape unnoticed if you fail to pay attention, the strange atmospheric music bass laden but also fringed with a distant guitar, calling from the distance. 

These elements taken alone make the National a proficient band, capable of not just composing a single infectious tune but a full album of rich, complex melodies, each exhibiting a strength, each standing on its own without the need of other songs on the album to support it. 

However, the National deserve more than the title “proficient band”. They merit the appellation of “masterful band”, possessing a full grasp of their craft.  In particular, the National have expanded the boundaries of what pop music might undertake and to what levels it might aspire. 

Perhaps the most striking feature of one of the National’s songs is the odd rhythm.  Most pop songs contain a similar rhythm composed of a regular beat, consistent throughout the song.  The National eschew such notions of rhythm and choose instead to adopt less traditional rhythms which, although uneven and heavy, propel the song forward much like a large boulder rolling down a hill. 

For example, the song “Anyone’s Ghost” off of the album High Violet exemplifies this approach with a bass beat followed by two rapid snare beats.  The beat stumbles forward drunkenly but because of the vacuum left by loading the beats at the top of the measure, pushes you to the next measure.  The rhythm fails to fit neatly in the song but purposely which creates an oddness exacerbating the already gloomy atmosphere of the song.

“Fake Empire,” the opening song off of the album Boxer provides an even better example.  In this case, the song opens with a piano emitting a series of punctuated chords meant to create a frame upon which Matt Beringer can apply his vocals.  The piano provides the beat, and the listener settles into the rhythm provided, situated, comfortable.  Then, immediately after the song locks on to a rhythm, a new rhythm interrupts the song, in the form of percussion, which after a struggle with the beat as developed by the piano finds a comfortable middle ground in which the two, the piano and the percussion, exist in an uneasy truce. 

A listener hearing the song played by a band less in control of their instrument and the song itself might conclude that the members were not in sync, that the singer, the drummer, and the piano player missed a beat or a cue.  But for the National, the disjointedness feels right.  It shows how clearly the players are synchronized, so much so that when the piano and the percussion resolve the tension in the rhythm, the beat forms succinctly. 

The National also exhibit a firm mastery of the lyric.  Lyrically, each of the songs written by the National merit mention.  However, I will concentrate on one of their more popular songs, “Apartment Story,” found on the album Boxer. 

“Apartment Story,” like so many of the National’s songs, subtextually creates an atmosphere harkening the bygone era of mid-century America in New England.  When I listen to it, images of well-dressed men in suits and ties and elegant ladies in bejeweled gowns come to mind.  I see these socialites planted firmly in an urban environment but for above the city floor, with a drink in hand, staring out over damp streets. 

A tension exists between the people in the song, a struggle between themselves and a struggle between them and the world outside.  The irritation of the man with his wife/girlfriend portrayed in the line, “I can tie my tie all by myself,” and “Try to stand still while I try to pin your flower on.”  And then, we sense the exhaustion of both the man and woman in meeting social obligations, “Wired and tired, we ruin too easy,” who explore the idea of foregoing leaving and remaining in their apartment, perhaps for an extended period of time, “Worry not.  All things are well.  We have our looks and perfume.”

Underneath all the notes and words, we sense that everything is decaying around the couple, their relationship, the ability to maintain the level of interaction they have with their social circle, their own selves.  We also get the sense of an acceptance of the decay, the idea that to not go out, to stay in, should be embraced and welcomed.  Further adding meaning to the song, the image of the apartment suggests a kind of confinement that such acceptance might mean, that the man and woman are now imprisoned in the decay.

I understand the comparisons to Joy Division, but the National is not Joy Division, at least not a Joy Division, in the form that existed after its metamorphosis into New Order.  Rather, the National echoes a Joy Division that has matured and that has left behind the petty problems through which most twenty-somethings struggle for a brand new set of issues faced by thirty and forty-somethings. 

For more information about the National, visit their webpage at www.americanmary.com

I have included a sampling of the National’s music along with some popuar selections of Joy Division songs in the Spotify widget to the right.