Sunday, May 18, 2008

A Thorough Appreciation Of The National
 

This Tuesday, the National will be releasing a documentary called A Skin, A Night, by Vincent Moon, longtime friend of the band.  The film loosely chronicles the making of the band's last album, Boxer.  Needless to say, I'm very excited. The National are by far one of my favorite bands.  More than anyone, they embody one of my favorite interpretations of "art," being that art is derived from the everyday - taking themes of the mundane and transforming them, whether by metaphor and poetry or music and lyrics, into something sublime and enlightened. The scene that comes to mind when I think of the "everyday" has always been public transportation, specifically the subway.  It's dirty and grimy.  And I don't mean just the seats, and the walling, and the floor, I mean the people.  It's not that people are physically dirty, it's that everyone seems so terrified to come into human contact with other people, as if they were in fact dirty.  For some reason, my free hands always squirm into my pockets, and I avoid the gaze of passing strangers.  At the same time, though, it's impossible not to marvel at the sheer magnitude of the whole system – millions of people rushing through their lives, brisking past each other on a eerily perfect coordinated system.  It's romantic and intriguing, and also kind of kitschy.  But nonetheless, the National make great music to listen to on public transportation. So in preparation for the movie, take a minute to have a look at their back catalog with me.  We'll get excited together.

The National (2001)

The National (who were almost "American Mary") formed in 1999.  Two years of practicing later, and they work up their debut, self-titled release on their own label, Brassland.  The band is immediately compared to alt-country forerunners, The Jayhawks, Wilco, and lyrically to the Silver Jews.  I'll be honest, I didn't buy this album until a while later into their history.  But looking back on it, it's really a shame that as critics we love to compare bands so quickly.  You hate to see a band like The National, destined to find their own niche, get bogged down with immediate ties to such well-known acts.  Have a quick listen to Beautiful Head, which would hardly be recognizable if not for the vocals.  Sure it's dark, a little cynical, but there's not much that sets the National apart from the rest of the pack yet.  Still a good album, and I think we're getting somewhere.

:The National - Beautiful Head:

Sad Songs For Dirty Lovers (2003)

Two more years and it's time to release another album.  Enter Sad Songs For Dirty Lovers.  By this point, it's clear that The National have cemented their strong points (namely hiding complex, often depressing themes under compelling melodies and increasingly effective instrumentation) and are moving forward and testing out new sounds.  Our choice for this album, It Never Happened, starts subtly with a light acoustic guitar, a touch of rhythm guitar and drums, and an all around Silver Jews feel.  Berninger sings almost emotionlessly, "Then what to my wondering eyes should appear? Nothing, because nothing ever happens here" (somebody's been listening to The Natural Bridge).  As the song changes halfway through, listen past the piano and effected guitar for the soft lyrics: "bad things never happen… to the beautiful."  For as focused as the lyrics are, the music to this album is still looking for a true definition.  Much the way Summerteeth skirts around the "sound" Wilco found on Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, the National clearly show signs of the development of their later "sound" (which we'll get to) but never quite settle down on this album, instead rotating in and out strings, synthesizers, electric pianos and a whole slew of other instruments and musical styles.

:The National - It Never Happened:

Alligator (2005)

Outgrowing their ability to run both label and band, The National graduate to the big leagues (well, maybe Triple-A) and sign with Beggar's Banquet for their third album Alligator. (An EP, Cherry Tree is released in the downtime, and while I won't say much about it, it's worth a listen or two, at least the song All Dolled-Up In Straps).  With Alligator, The National have fully developed the dark, gritty sound that we'll all come to know them by. On this track, Karen, you can still hear the pianos and strings of Sad Songs For Dirty Lovers, but they feel more incorporated into a singular momentum, which has grown to match Berninger's cynically realist lyrics, rather than mask them.  The lyrics are not as awkward as past albums, favoring the poetic rather than the "scrawled in a diary" approach, though no less savagely direct: "Karen, put me in a chair, fuck me and make me a drink, I've lost direction, and I'm past my peak/I'm telling you this isn't me, no, this isn't me/Karen, believe me, you just haven't seen my good side yet."  All-in-all, Alligator is a step up for the band, a step up to…

:The National - Karen:

Boxer (2007)

Boxer came out just last year, and easily made it to the top of a good number of year-end lists.  If Alligator was the band finding their "sound," then Boxer is the band showcasing a "sound" they now completely own.  The individual instruments swirl together in a wash of tape-y analog goodness; each song exists as a perfect whole supporting and sometimes encompassing Berninger's vocals.  Apartment Story might not be the best song on the album, in so far as showcasing the band's new mastery of their "sound," but it's by far my favorite.  The guitars are mercilessly drowned in overdrive to the point that they are like melodic growls of urban "hustle and bustle."  The clean tone of the organ/synth rises from this guitar moan and, along with the vocals, carries the song ever forward.  The chorus finally picks up, and the pianos we've gotten used to kick back in, though much more muted than on other songs.  The lyrics take the cake though; here are a few to look out for: "Tired and wired we ruin too easy/sleep in our clothes and wait for winter to leave," and "We’ll stay inside 'til somebody finds us/do whatever the TV tells us/stay inside our rosy-minded fuzz," and finally, "So worry not/all things are well/we’ll be alright/we have our looks and perfume."  The latter of course bears the mark of Berninger's dark, poignant sarcasm that we saw in the latter half of It Never Happened I'm going to just lay this one you: this is one of my favorite albums of all time.

For as good as this album is musically though, the real feat is in the timing.  The National had a good deal of press riding behind them as they prepared to release Boxer, which meant all eyes were fixed on them, whether or not the album was a success.  Fail, and you go down big.  Succeed, and they release a documentary about the "Making Of" less than a year later.  I think it's pretty clear how I feel about their success.

:The National - Apartment Story:

- John Michael Cassetta -

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