I think I have a new favorite band. I haven't had one in years- this is a very big deal.
I stumbled upon The National when looking around music blogs for new recommendations. I'd heard of them before, which was good because I don't like my music too obscure (unless I'm going down that rabbit hole myself). I wound up with Alligator and it wasn't until I was making the 45-minute drive home from my girlfriend's a few weeks later that I had the courage to try something new. And new it was. I found them impossible to pigeon-hole; they are assuredly not an equation-band (This + That = Band!). My early favorite was Karen. I was so bored with all of my old music and even most of my new stuff as well. The chord changes in that chorus- each one more unexpected than the last! The melody when he says "America," listen to the way his voice drops down before coming back into the first line. That chorus slithered around my brain like a serpent. I knew I liked it, but even after a few listens, I had trouble pinning down the rhythm and the strange repetition. After becoming obsessed with this album, I learned that there is a definite method to the way these men plot out their compositions, but I still had a long ways to go. This was something new to me. I couldn't memorize the melody and just start singing along halfway through. I just couldn't see it coming.
Since then, I've become pretty obsessed with it. For a while, I would just keep singing songs without noticing- my girlfriend would bring me back to Earth. "The National?" and I'd mumble an affirmation with my eyes closed and keep hearing the music. I remember she was getting ready for bed and I put on Mr. November 6 or 7 times in a row while I was waiting. This album was just what I needed. I've actually been scared to delve deeper. I don't want to spoil myself- I want to keep this level of joy and excitement at a slow, steady simmer. All the wine is all for me and I need to take it in slow gulps. Last night I ordered their next album, Boxer. I'm not a superstitious person at all, but it seemed appropriate to listen to it all the way through to the end, to Mr. November, on the last day of November. Then shelve it for a while.
Since the infatuation began, I started to look, not for my favorite, but for my least-liked song on an album that I truly love every moment of. At first it was easy enough to pick from the songs I'd heard more. Looking for Astronauts is kind of silly. But, no. I love the line, "You know you have, a permanent piece, of my medium-sized American heart." I can't deny the breathless intensity when he sings, "Take all of your reasons and take them away, to the middle of nowhere and on your way home, throw from your window your record collection."
How about Lit Up? It's a bit too fast-paced and full of what feels like fluff, for sure. Well, that's wrong. It's just all attitude, the verses as tight as a straightjacket. The sextuplets on the drums leading to the bridge might be my very favorite National moment right now.
I kept thinking of The Geese of Beverly Road as being long and overly-meandering. One morning, driving into work, it just clicked with me. It's gobsmackingly beautiful in an immediate way that sets it apart from the rest. I remember going the rest of the day, closing my eyes with my head tilted back, thinking, "We'll run like we're awesome, totally genius." I love the section about serving the sky is lovely in a way that leaves me without the language to describe.
Baby, We'll Be Fine? It's a bit obtuse, the guitar is all angular. But, those are reasons to adore it. It's a genuine, heart-felt plea. For what, I have no idea, but this is another one where the imagery really strikes you in its surrealism. I can't tell you how much I enjoy the idea of this guy laying awake at night, praying for just an attaboy from his boss.
City Middle is surely too sing-song, too repetitious. But, it has this slow rhythm that builds to this gentle and explosive climax that seems to last for days. By the time he mentions Tennessee Williams, it just soars.
Since this is a search, something needs to be found. Val Jester is not a bad song. It's a cliche, but even the worst songs by The National have their amazing redeeming qualities. It floats along on its own tumultuous course, with a quiet intensity slowly brewing just underneath the surface.
I'm so hesitant to actually begin another album. What do I do? Do I toss it in during a drive and listen in spurts? Do I set aside and hour and concentrate on every moment? I feel mildly psychotic putting this much thought into it. But, I feel so relieved to have this kind of passion for a band again.
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