After a couple of little gigs, it’s time
for a big ‘un; and right now they don’t come much bigger (Stadia and Festivals
notwithstanding), than US alt-rock leaders The National! The band of choice for
serious black jeans-clad “sad dad” musos (hands up, guilty as charged) and now
firmly established as the R.E.M. of this particular musical generation (I said
it would happen, and it’s happened…), Ohio’s The National announced a date at
London’s cavernous greenhouse Alexandra Palace, so naturally I logged on for
tix at the very second they went on sale. Despite my continuous “refresh”
efforts, however, I was stymied and locked out until the “sold out” signs went
up about 10 minutes afterwards… Luckily, I checked back about half an hour
later, to find they’d added a second date for the night after! Yay! So, I
quickly bagsied tix for that one before they, too, disappeared… Good thing too,
as The National then went and delivered what may well be their career-defining album
in this year’s “The First Two Pages Of Frankenstein”, a quite magnificent body
of work, mainly slow-burn, stripped back and understatedly melancholy, but with
a significantly elevated quality of songwriting which took a quantum stride
forward from their last couple of “National by Numbers” albums. Likely their
best, easily the best album I’ve heard this year, this could be their “Out Of
Time”, the one which elevates them from growing cult status to the national
(sic) and international consciousness…
(Ironic really, given that in mood and timbre,
its more akin to R.E.M.’s follow up to “OOT”, “Automatic For The People”, but
still…)
So, hopes were very high for a performance
to match, as Stu picked me up at 4, hitting traffic just off the North Circular
which delayed our arrival until ¼ to 7. Parked up easily, nonetheless, and
grabbed a quick bite in the main atrium before wandering into the huge and
ornate venue just after 7. Nashville’s Soccer Mommy took the stage just after
10 past, immediately easing into pure, textural opener “Crawling In My Skin”.
Thence followed a real early 90’s college pop throwback set, with some fine
musicianship from singer/ songwriter Sophie Allison’s backing band
(particularly the robust, strong-armed drummer) happily giving an extra
dynamism to Sophie’s oft-muted (and in the case of her second album material,
sadly a bit borderline dull) material. “Circle The Drain” was plaintive and
lovely, almost a companion piece to The Blake Babies’ classic “Out There”, the
eerie pseudo goth template of “Darkness Forever” was juxtaposed with a languidly
summery “Bullet In A Shotgun”, and after a slightly morose solo cover of
Slowdive’s “Dagger”, Sophie bigged up the headliners (“The National put on
quite a show”) and left us with set closer “Don’t Ask Me”, which was the
brightest, bounciest and Belly-est number on display in a quietly impressive
opening set.
We kept our good viewing spots, house left
about 10 rows back, as the place got understandably busier, the lights smashing
to black dead on 8.20 to the big screen backdrop of the band about to take the
stage! So they did, easing in with an elongated “Runaway”, singer Matt
Berninger’s nuanced, inflected baritone already the standout feature. However
“Eucalyptus”, next up, was utterly magnificent, eliciting a surprise singalong
to the “you can take it” hook, and building to a dramatic and sweeping
crescendo (not the last of the evening, of course) augmented by the brass
section overlay and Matt’s impassioned vocal. Woah… they’ve not peaked too
soon, surely?
Thankfully quality control was maintained,
despite (although I blanked on this at the time) guitarist Aaron Dessner then advising
us that the band wouldn’t be repeating any songs they played last night! We therefore
had a slightly off the beaten track National song selection, but as ever
delivered with this band’s signature mellifluously understated yet wonderfully sombre
style, and happily (which hasn’t always been the case in large venues for me this
year) matched by a clear-as-a-bell sound and impressive augmented light and screen
backdrop (said screen usually showing artily fragmented shots of the onstage
action). A delicious “This Isn’t Helping” ceded to “I Should Live In Salt”
(“one of our strange time signature songs,” advised Aaron before brother Bryce
took centre stage with some serious guitar shredding through its building denouement);
“I Need My Girl” was heartcrackingly sombre, Matt’s yearning mahogany vocal augmented
by stark backlit blue banks of light; newie “Deep End” (from an unexpected forthcoming
album “Laugh Track” – their second this year!) was an old school “Alligator”-era
rocker with a slightly countrified (think R.E.M’s “Reckoning”) lilt; and “Sorrow”
(preceded by Aaron joking, “we thought about playing you [this song] for 2 ½ hours
– there’s a precedent for that!) was beautifully despondent, heartbreak never sounding
so good.
Thereafter, it all got a little intermittently
(and surprisingly) punk rock! Oldie “Murder Me Rachael” was a startlingly
upbeat and growling U2-esque 80’s stadium rocker with a thunderous climax; the
equally veteran “Available” was a soaring blast, Matt (not for the first time) delivering
his screaming vocals from the photo pit into the faces of the front rows; and
after the circular layered vocal build of “Secret Meeting” calmed matters
slightly, “Turtleneck” was a dynamically juddering swampy Stones-like blues
rocker. Yikes!
For me, the gig took a bit of a lull
thereafter (not helped by me zoning out slightly because some entitled 6 foot+
tall 5 to 3’er in a striped shirt planted himself directly in my line of vision
– twat!), but a superb “Conversation 16”, with its’ juxtaposition of elegiac
verse and huge strident “I’m EVIL!!” hook, brought me right back, before the
propulsive thrill-ride of “Graceless”, the set closer and highlight of the night
for me, saw Matt not only abandon the stage for the middle of the melee, but
also then take a right turn and return to the stage via our side, phones held
aloft to mark his progress. As he passed me by, I hastily snapped a photo, then
during the early encore, tracked down the punter next to him in said pic (hi
Max!).
“This has been the fucking best time!”
pronounced a buoyed Matt, who once again had given his all, balancing his
marvellous baritone with by-now easy frontperson showmanship. The slow-fast dynamics
and textured hook of “Terrible Love” was the highlight of the encore, final
number “About Today” seeing Stu and I head back to the car for 10.45 after
nearly 2 ½ hours of stellar entertainment, a quick run seeing us back in the ‘don
for 12.30. A superb night out as ever with The National, then, once again
cementing their status as the heads of the US alt-rock table. Surely
stadium-level status won’t be too long to follow…
