The National's Songs of Forgetting and Escape
Jul. 15, 2009
In advance of the band's return appearance at the Pabst Theater tomorrow night, I dug up this 2007 interview with singer Matt Berninger. Although I wish I could say it holds up, it already shows its ageówho would expect The National to do "loud, aggressive" songs at this point?óbut it does offer some perspective on the band's unusual, delayed success story and Berninger's almost Zen-like songwriting perspective:
¬†¬† With a new home on a prestigious indie label (Beggars Banquet) and a well-reviewed new album under their belts (Alligator), 2005 seemed destined to be The National's breakthrough year, and the band was well positioned heading into their tour that fall. The tour was indeed a rousing success, with crowds filling clubs around the country, but there was a problem: The audiences werenít there to hear The National.
¬†¬† The Nationalís openers on that tour happened to be Clap Your Hands Say Yeah!, an overnight buzz band with a quirky, flashy sound and a Cinderella back story (they were young, label-less nobodies until a flood of Internet attention made them stars). Night after night, Clap Your Hands played to a packed house that quickly emptied after their set, leaving The National to perform to half-empty rooms (and, by some accounts, much, much emptier ones).
¬†¬† Thankfully, 2007 is shaping up to be a much more just year. Clap Your Hands were finally exposed as naked emperorsóthey released a sophomore album to widespread, deserved indifferenceówhile The National are piling up rave reviews for their latest album, Boxer. This time around those reviews are translating into real press attention and a growing audience.
Boxerís warm reception is particularly refreshing, since itís an album that requires a much greater attention span than most. Quieter and subtler than their previous efforts, itís an unlikely breakthrough album.
¬†¬† ďThere was a moment as we were finish this record that we realized we didnít have any of those loud, aggressive songs where Iíd just go nuts, which were some of the most popular from our earlier records, but there wasnít anything we could do about it,Ē singer Matt Berninger says. ďWe were just making the record that felt right, so the last thing we could do was try to force one of those songs. We didnít just want to shoot for songs that we knew people would like. I think thatís the easiest way to write bad songs.Ē
¬†¬† Boxer sounds as if The National rented out Leonard Cohnís iconic room and recorded more songs from it. Itís filled with elegant, meditative tunes that suggest they could explode into lavish fireworks a la the Arcade Fire, but can only muster the energy for gentle orchestral flourishes here and there. Berninger sets the relaxed tone. He possesses an arresting, rich baritone most politicians could only dream of, but sings as if between drags of a cigarette.
¬†¬† On paper it sounds like an overly morose album, but Boxer is never weighed down by the melancholy. If anything, itís at peace with itself. Much of the album takes place in isolated city apartments, where characters hole up, pour themselves a drink (they drink a lot), watch TV and forget about their troubled relationships or larger world woes, like the war. Other songwriters demonize this sort of mentalityóas a general rule songwriters urge listeners to take action and deride the weak-minded who accept the status quoóbut Berninger is never so judgmental.
¬†¬† ďThereís a lot of songs on Boxer about people trying to escape and live in a state of denial, a little bit of a fantasy state, but I think thatís itís kind of healthy to do that sometimes,Ē he says. ďI think the record is, in a weird way, a little optimisticóalthough it might be a little absurdly optimistic in the way that people are pretending things are great when sometimes theyíre not.Ē
¬†¬† Berninger insists he isnít trying to make a statement by skirting resolution in his songs. Like his characters, heís just trying to escape from lifeís burdens for a little while.
¬†¬† ďI certainly donít want to put any pressure on myself by trying to write songs that have some sort of message I stand by,Ē he says. ďIn songwriting, there arenít any rules. You donít have to grow up and be responsible. When Iím sitting, writing lyrics and drinking wine, I donít want to have to solve the issues in my life or anything elseís, or write a political song. Thatís the last thing I wanted to do: I just want to get kind of drunk. And so, for me, the band is the place to do that. The rest of my life is what I take seriously.Ē