Front Page Reviews & AIR

In many ways, The National seem like an unlikely band to be at the forefront of indie rock’s 2010 popular breakthrough.  Lead singer Matt Berninger’s baritone vocals are unusual to the point of being initially off-putting; their songs aren’t exactly dance-hall material; their albums tend to lack the traditional radio-friendly “hits” typical of commercially successful rock albums – and yet that’s exactly what High Violet is, a commercially successful album, hitting the Top 5 worldwide, including a #3 debut  in America.  Where did that come from?  I’ve been a fan of their 2005 album Alligator for years, yet that album failed to dent the charts.  Their 2007 follow up, Boxer, sold a meager 9,500 albums in its first week of release, though in the post-major-label era that was enough to crack the Billboard 200 (#68).  But that was still nothing compared to High Violet’s success, which was due to… what, exactly?  The additional clout of new label 4AD?  A quantum leap forward musically and artistically?  The popular expansion of the indie rock market?  Maybe…

I’d like to think it was simple word of mouth about a really good band, and given the viral power of the internet, maybe that can be enough to make relative stars out of five thirty-something guys from Cincinnati who sing kind of mopey songs.  And if this is true, it gives me some faith in the willingness of the listening public to take a little time actually listening to an album.  Unlike today’s disposable pop music phenomena, The National aren’t flashy, yet they reward the listener for taking the time to actually listen; High Violet is a case in point.  My first reaction to it was a disappointment that they had continued (as Boxer also had) to move away from high-energy rock songs like “Abel,” “Lit Up,” and  show-closer “Mr. November,” which peppered Alligator and, when combined with their slower, more introspective material, created a satisfying pacing of diverse material.  Compared to Alligator, High Violet’s sustained restraint sounded a bit “samey.”  But then…

I continued to listen to the album and began to recognize the care and craft that had gone into every song on it (from the opening tone-setter “Terrible Love” to the cinematically anthemic closer “Vanderlyle Crybaby Geeks”), and I realized that by dialing everything down, slowing the pace, letting the album breathe, they had managed to create their own self-enclosed world in which the slightest vocal tic, the most delicate guitar riff, the most subtle rhythm was suddenly recognizable and imbued with the optimum meaning and significance.  In short, The National had created a world that perfectly utilized and maximized their understated strengths. 

However, this is not an effect that can be immediately recognized.  It takes time, time to immerse yourself in the world they have created, time to take it in, look around, time to absorb and wonder and think about the cryptic yet oddly satisfying lyrics Berninger has become a master of, time to recognize and process it all.  And so, if The National’s increased album sales actually mean that more people actually like them, it’s a sign that more people are actually listening and that maybe, just maybe, we aren’t doomed to a future of disposable pop.