(Some of the) Best Songs by The National
Labour are back in power and The National are playing in the UK. It's a Centrist Dad summer! Awoooooo!
I went to Crystal Palace Park the other day. A place famed for hosting the quite-racist-sounding “Great Exhibition” and having a massive transmission mast that you can see from the deluge of various rooftop small plates bar/restaurants in Peckham, ‘twas a momentous day as I snoozed my was down the Overground. It was a Friday afternoon and I was off to see The National, and was seeking out some brief rest after a night of witnessing Labour re-take power in the United Kingdom.
As I drifted in and out of consciousness, thoughts rolled vaguely through my head. How would he perform? What does he have in store for us? Will he finally save me? But enough about Matt Berninger, lead singer of American rock band The National - lets talk about our new Prime Minister! Hahaha!!!! See what I did there!! Hahahahahahaahahah!!!
No but seriously, it was a day of poignancy for mild mannered men in the UK. Keir Starmer, our new daddy, was on my mind, as I thought ahead as to whether the big man has any plans, capability or interest in resolving the deep structural problems our country faces, or if we’re doomed for another five years of deep societal paralysis. His journey was just beginning. Gareth Southgate, my progressive but tactically-limited uncle who comes to visit every two years, was getting beer cups unfairly thrown at him in Germany, which made me feel a bit sad and was a damning return of the very-same toxic masculinity he has almost single-handedly rooted out of English football in the last seven years. His journey was about to end. And then there was Matt Berninger and his bandmates, my old dads, who lives in my ears but were about to be reunited with my eyes in southeast London. He keeps on going.
Beyond these complex family ties, the overlap between these three men is undeniable. My future brother-in-law, Chris (with whom I went to Crystal Palace with, along with my dad) joked that The National playing the day after the election would be a rejoicing of vaguely left-leaning-but-not-too-much men-with-kids, thousands of fathers joining hands to herald a new era of fiscal scrutiny and minor tweaks to the NHS. Men who have nice middle-management jobs, a child/children less than ten years old, and sometimes feel a bit/very sad but don’t know what to do about it. The National hoovers up these men. And here I am, one of them; not exactly proud, but increasingly fitting the mould. Engaged, broody, therapised.
The National are undoubtedly the most important band of my adult life. It sounds a bit pathetic to have a “favourite band” (in the same way that adults have “best friends” is a bit pathetic - why do you need to rank your friends?) but I think they must be my favourite band. They have been a common thread between my dad (my actual dad) and I since we both discovered we like them around 2017, and are the only band I’ve ever travelled internationally specifically to see (Copenhagen, 2019, I had a little cry before the gig because I was having a very Bad Time). They have also brought together the aforementioned Chris and I: two men destined to spend a lot of time together going forward. We both love The National almost as much as love decent cycle infrastructure.
They are simply deeply ingrained within me. Picking their favourite songs would be like picking my favourite kidney: they’re both great. As such, consider this to be simply a selection of their great work. Play the jingle!
All The Wine
Before we go anywhere, I must start at the beginning. The year is 2016, and I have just returned from living in Madagascar. This was an exceptionally formative experience, as you can no doubt imagine. I met some wonderful people, had a lot of fun, and got extremely depressed. Musically, it was also extremely formative as well. The challenges of decent internet connections meant that we all clung onto our iPods, MP3 files and external harddrives for dear life.
To get around this disconnectivity, Michael, our IT labourer and general genius problem solver, set up a system of illegally downloaded music from “a server that he had in France” (???). You could put in requests, it would download overnight, then would be accessible the next day. We did this for everything from albums to TV series to yoga videos, and shared them via our various storage systems.
During this time, I came into contact with classic white guy artists Future Islands and War on Drugs, as well as coming across UK grime legend Kano. Some of my Madagascar mates liked The National, but I had never really listened to them. For me, they were that band on the festival lineup whose name was simply too boring to even bother trying to listen to. Two thirds up the bill of the main stage and none one at school liked them. See also: British Sea Power, Placebo, Deftones.
Anyway, I land back from Madagasacar. I’ve left a bit earlier than planned as I’m too depressed and I need to go home and sort myself out. I fly back to the UK, I head back to my parents house, who are on holiday. I raid the fridge for whatever food they didn't eat before they left to rustle up some sort of generic pasta dish. As I chop some red peppers, and I pop on a bit of The National, just to see what it's all about.
As is often the case with a new band, it's a single song which draws you in; that first song you have on repeat. For The National, it was All The Wine, from the album Alligator. You don’t realise it at first, but there’s something which hits you, makes you look up and take note of what the song is called. And then you’re away.
All The Wine is a brilliant song. It makes me think of that strutting self-confidence you have after a few drinks, or the oddly freeing feeling of nihilism when you’re feeling really down (“if nothing matters, I have nothing to worry about!!!”). Its chaotic lyrics and gradual crescendo perfectly encapsulate this; that growing feeling of intensity and confusion, which probably wasn’t a million miles from where I was at at the time. Even now, with my thankfully more positive, stable mental state, it is a reminder of how bad things can be, and a reminder to appreciate life those feelings are absent. There are no good times without those bad times.
About Today
If All The Wine can be firmly filed in the “chaos” category of The National songs, then About Today can be considered as existing within a second frequently occurring category: “sad romance”. Featuring on the band’s 2004 EP Cherry Tree, this song has become quite iconic within the small insular world of The National fan. With 88 million plays on Spotify, you can safely assume that almost all of those listens are from men with communication problems.
For me, this song is about the classic slow decline of a relationship; concerned about losing your partner and not knowing what to do about it. Though break-ups are traditionally painted as something fraught with argument, passion and flash points, I think every unsuccessful relationship I’ve ever been in can be characterised as a gradual disintegration. Small problems rear their head, neither feel capable of addressing them through fear of causing irreversible damage, and so they are artificially smoothed over to prioritise short-term happiness. You deny these issues exist until they become so numerous and dominant that the bond naturally breaks. It is a passivity, a stasis, a paralysis. On some level you know this is happening, but do not feel like you have the confidence or the tools to take action. In this respect, it becomes easier to just let it slip away.
But hey! It's okay, because The National have written this great song that speaks to all these things! The soundtrack to your break-up!
In all seriousness, this is a stunningly beautiful song. Like other songs in the sad romance category, it has a simplicity to it which other parts of their music doesn’t have, as they crack out the acoustic guitar and violins and do away with most of the other stuff. I can find this slightly folkier style of music kind of tedious and boring, but I think the incredibly depressing subject matter brings it back for me. Plus, Matt Berninger’s voice in this is simply glorious; bass-y and perfectly sparse.
For me, however, it gives me an odd hope. It makes you acknowledge that talking about your feelings and communicating in a relationship is important (in case you didn’t know). For a lot of people, this is obviously horrendously difficult. But when you see that vulnerability in yourself or someone else, there are not many things more beautiful in this life.
For a similar experience, also see the song Light Years, off the album I Am Easy To Find.
Mistaken for Strangers
The National’s 2007 album Boxer is probably (in the heaviest, most stylised italics possible) their best album. It's so good because it's what one might term “a perfect album”: it has no bad songs. They’re all great. As a result, it has the unintended impact of seeming that none of them particularly standout as a result - which is a massive disservice for this brilliant piece of work. As I think they’re all wonderful, I’m going to talk about the second song - Mistaken for Strangers - because it allows me to point you towards a wider piece of The National artistry.
Firstly, Mistaken for Strangers: the song. As far as I can tell, this is a song about being an adult, with a job and stuff - and how weird that is and the effect it has on your personality. An unusual facet of The National is that they started quite late. By the time they formed in Brooklyn, they were all doing proper jobs, working for ad firms and the like during the “dotcom boom” era, around the time of the millennium. They’ve got other songs about being professionals, and I always thought these were interesting. As someone destined for the office job for the rest of his life, it is not always a world I’ve necessarily understood all that much (the concept of “professionalism” is not something that comes naturally to me. How do I read between the lines? What jokes can I and can I not make? I don’t know!!!). As such, I both dig and relate to this song.
Secondly, Mistaken for Strangers: the documentary. If you’re a wanker like me, you’ll love little music films; essentially made for the obsessives amongst us. The premise is as follows: The band is made up of two sets of brothers: Scott and Bryan Devendorf (bassist + drummer and Aaron and Bryce Dessner (guitarist + guitarist).Then there is the singer, Matt Berninger: brotherless in the band, but not in real life. The film looks at Matt’s brother, Tom. Made about ten years ago, Tom is basically a slightly unusual guy who feels slightly overawed by his brother’s relative success. The film idea originates with him documenting life on tour with the band whilst acting as a roadie, but it doesn’t go very well, and the film actually ends up actually being a film about making a film (meta!!!!). It’s really nice, covering their relationship as brothers, overcoming adversity and the struggle of trying to force through a project. In addition, there is some amazing DIY footage of the band, and a particular performance of Terrible Love which - along with everything else - makes me feel very emotional.
I Am Easy to Find
I Am Easy to Find is the title track off their 2019 album. This was, in creative terms, definitely one of the more interesting albums that the band has made, as it heavily features the voices of women. From what I’ve read, this was a very intentional decision, taken for two broad reasons.
Firstly, Berninger has talked about wanting to avoid the band becoming what he termed as a “dude rock” band, made up of a bunch of guys just rocking out!!! You can definitely argue that ship has sailed, but regardless, it's a noble motive.
Secondly, it seems that this was a way of injecting some freshness into the writing process. The band often speak about the challenge that they have writing albums together; which often seems to be termed as a constant, turgid battle between members, disagreeing about how songs should be. Indeed, the album Boxer was named as such due to the fights they had with each other. Every album they talk about how hard it was to put together, and even time they release an album I get terribly worried that maybe it’s going to be their last. But then, what do you know, they get through it and everything is fine. The train rolls on.
This is a beautiful song. From my pathetic little Googling, I think this song is basically about what you want to say to your partners when things are bad; when you’re drifting apart, or when one of you is in a bad patch. It might not seem it, but you’re still here. You’re right here.
Sea of Love
For the sake of diversity, I should talk about some songs that are a bit less dreary and about feeling sad, and reflect on some cast iron bangers. As much as a lot of National fans are sad dads, all dads love (relatively) fast paced guitar music. The song that always around the top of their most streamed tunes - Bloodbuzz Ohio - very much fits this mould. I personally don’t think it's that great a song, but sometimes you just want to bob your head and listen to something much more straightforward that’s less obviously emotional.
The album that Sea of Love is on the album Trouble Will Find Me, from 2013, which has a few songs of this ilk, and are always the songs that are magnificently good live. There is a tinge of crisis and chaos that always is in and around these hastier songs of theirs. I’ve never really thought about what this song is about, so I won’t go there, but it is a welcome piece of rock band convention to take the edge of the generalised lovely misery.
For a similar experience, please see Don’t Swallow the Cap, also off Trouble Will Find Me.
Terrible Love - Alternate Version
Yup, we’re entering the world of B-sides! It wouldn’t be a silly superfan blog without some niche B-side chat. Watch me flex my credentials as The National’s number one fan, with my very well-considered and controversial opinions about their best output; the sort of thoughts you could only get from someone who really knows what they’re talking about.
And not just a B-side, but actually an alternative version of a song that features on the same album, which is even more hipster! Taken from High Violet, Terrible Love - Alternate Version is a variation on Terrible Love, the opening song of the album, and is an amazing song in itself. Its weird lyrics about spiders and oceans are often referred to as representative of the weird place that Berninger’s mind goes to; words that even you would have to study and bullshit about for your English Literature GCSE. Musically, it is an absolute exhibition into how to do a gradual build-up in a song and bring it to a glorious crescendo, something that they are simply elite at doing as a band more generally.
Do I really think that the alternate version is better, or is this a little joke I’m having with you all by drawing upon a cliche of the band nerd? I genuinely don’t know. There’s something about the B-side that is slightly tidier, a bit less busy, which I quite like. But hey, they ultimately sound quite similar and are both brilliant, so who cares. Listen to both, and you decide which you like the best.
Smoke Detector
We come to the end of this sycophantic dream world with one of their most recent songs. In 2023, they did a weird thing where they released two full albums very close together. I wasn’t necessarily as delighted about this as you might think, as I assume the they did this for some sort of income generation reasons to game the algorithm; taking the “quantity-over-quality” approach that seems to pervade modern music. And to be honest, I don’t think overall these two represent their best work. They’re by no means bad, but just hasn’t grabbed me quite as much as usual.
But that’s okay, because Smoke Detector immediately went right up there in my hall of fame pantheon of National bangers. The last song off the second of these double albums, Laugh Track, it perfectly encapsulates the “chaos” category of National songs. A repetitive riff, weird lyrics increasingly delivered with squeals, slurs and barks, and it's almost eight minutes long. This feels like the painting of a controlled breakdown, your brain speaking to you on overdrive, whilst you have to go about your day-to-day business. And I bloody love it.
Even if this isn’t my favourite work, these albums came out at a time when the band hit their peak in other ways. I went to a remarkable gig of theirs (also with Chris and my dad) at Alexandra Palace at the end of last year. They played two consecutive dates (I only went to the first one, sadly) for which they played two completely unique sets, not a single song repeated night-to-night. Every song sounded amazing, hitting every album they’ve produced since they existed. It must take a remarkable drive and skill to want to go out there every night to perform in front of thousands of people who will think everything you do is great, and still want to mix it up. Fair play dads.
Best one yet. So good I’ll even forgive you for your Sea Power slander.