A few weeks ago, The New York Times published an article titled "The National Agenda" -- a stellar piece by Nicholas Dawidoff profiling The National just as their fifth album "High Violet" was set to be released. Dawidoff's thesis: This album was going to be a Big Deal.
For those not familiar with this band, The National is a five-piece collective made up of two sets of brothers and frontman Matt Berninger. Their first two records (the eponymous debut and "Sad Songs for Dirty Lovers") sort of hinted at what could one day be a good band, but their "Leonard Cohen meets alt-country" vibe didn't do anything to highlight this band's strengths.
The seven-song "Cherry Tree" EP was a massive artistic breakthrough for the group, as they began exploring more dramatic, cinematic elements. "Wasp Nest" found the band finally zoning in on an emotional viewpoint, and an early take on "All The Wine" is among my personal musical highlights. It's a Perfect Song.
The success of this EP led to "Alligator" -- The National's first real major statement. There were a couple of duds, but for the most part, this record let us know that these guys were serious.
"Boxer" soon followed. Everyone loved "Boxer." It was more polished and accomplished than its predecessor, but the tension was left to simmer throughout the 43:25 run time. No moments of catharsis along the lines of "Abel" or "Mr. November" to be found here.
Between the one-two punch of "Alligator" and "Boxer," everyone who gives a crap about modern music had jumped on The National's bandwagon. These guys were accomplishing Great Things, and "High Violet" was set to be one of 2010's most anticipated releases.
The aforementioned New York Times article caught the fivesome at a crucial juncture. They were fully aware of the expectations surrounding "High Violet" and knew that people were expecting them to deliver a record that captured The Sound of the Times.
For the most part, "High Violet" delivers.
Everything that makes The National a great band is on full display here. Berninger's limitations as a vocalist is somehow the band's strongest asset. His range exists in between a baritone, a higher baritone, and a lower baritone, where he mumbles his broken poetry over his band's sweeping soundscapes. Berninger's narrowed focus gives the band its emotional core, which on "High Violet" is terribly nervous. He's bleak, but not entirely hopeless.
Everything Berninger says on this record is a reflection of his continued discomfort with growing older while becoming more famous. In pop music, the "successful band struggling to deal with fame" typically results in the most boring music imaginable, but The National has a built-in advantage. They'll never feel comfortable, which helps to keep their music compelling.
There are some unspeakably beautiful moments on "High Violet." The opening track, "Terrible Love," builds and builds into an explosion of sound that sums up every reason why people fell for this band in the first place. "Bloodbuzz Ohio" highlights the band's secret weapon, drummer Bryan Devendorf, as Berninger turns in the album's catchiest melody. "Runaway" is on the short list of the band's most effective slow burners, with Berninger getting downright tender on the "What makes you think I'm enjoying being left to the flood?" line. Outside of the lazy "Do do do do" part on "Lemonworld" (the album's only true dud), this record is rock solid.
Just like every record these guys put out, I admired this album (but didn't love it) the first time I heard it start to finish. Then I gradually loved it more and more each time I played it. The National makes music that you need to sit with for a while. It's heavy stuff.
Every review you read on "High Violet" that came out the week of release is utterly useless -- like trying to determine whether you want to marry someone after a first date.
That said, the New York Times article was a total bummer. Much like the dreadful documentary the band released as a companion piece to the "Virginia" EP, it let people behind the curtain, and I really would rather have not known anything about these guys as people.
It turns out that everyone in this band is a total shithead.
Their creative process is essentially an exercise in passive aggression. Everyone cuts down everyone else in the most juvenile ways imaginable. It takes them weeks (sometimes months) to finish songs, because there isn't a track that goes by without some cutting comment or petty remark.
Says Berninger: "Everybody thinks everybody else has secret ulterior motives because we all do. We purposefully set up decoys and red herrings to attack a song. That we’re all playing mind games is sort of funny, but it’s also frustrating."
Doesn't that sound miserable?
It's that conflict that makes The National's music so terrific (the old cliche "conflict creates drama" most certainly applies here), but it makes me kind of depressed. I could never be in a band like The National.
I've played bass in my friend Daniel's band for almost five years now, and I would've quit four-and-a-half years ago if Redlands was anything like The National. Playing music is the most fun anyone can possibly have. Why would you want to turn that into something so emotionally draining?
The National is a Band That Matters, but is it really worth it if you spend the majority of that time being mean to everyone you're creating that music with? What does it say about The Times We Live In if the band responsible for The Sound of Our Times is deeply, profoundly unhappy?
Verdict: Be nice to each other.
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