Some Songs Considered

“Fake Empire” – the National
(Words/music: The National, available on Boxer, Beggars Banquet 2007) 

For the past couple of years, the National brought along a horn section while they toured.  In a recent interview with Pitchfork, Aaron Dessner called the choice to bring these extra instrumentalists on the road as one necessary to recreate some of the songs from Boxer.  “We don’t have them because we want to sound bigger or grander,” Dessner said in the interview, “it’s just the texture of those instruments.”  This statement stuck out largely because it hits on two truths in the band’s music.  First, The National aren’t about gimmicks; even with a large number of instruments on their two most recent records, the tracks rarely feel excessive or decadent.  Secondly, this band approaches their songs as compositions, taking great effort not just in the writing of their songs, but in the arrangement and continued performance of these works.  Thus, the horn players become necessary parts of many of these songs, as opposed to something that a slightly maddening (and hopefully tongue-in-cheek) Vulture post might suggest to “liven” up the band. 

As those in attendance this past Wednesday night at Radio City Music Hall know (and from looking down from the second balcony, a lot of people were there), The National needs little help creating excitement.  Their lineup, in addition to the horn players, featured a small string section and help from Annie Clark (a.k.a. St. Vincent) and Sufjan Stevens on a couple songs.  Still, none of these additions were choices of excess that playing a room like Radio City might warrant.  Instead, each of these additions, including their famous friends, played supporting roles.  Even Clark and Stevens contributed texture rather than star-power.  The result, particularly on the swelling, set-closing “Fake Empire,” not only validated the choice of room (as the sound resonated beautifully, especially at the back of the room where we sat), but also the band’s reputation as a live presence.  Even before Matt Berninger navigated the fringe of the room and dragged a hundred feet of microphone cord into the first balcony for the electric “Mr. November” in the encore, the richness of the songs captivated the crowd throughout.  Even if Berninger’s repeated trips into the audience get cited as the most electric moments in the show, then the supporting players deserve some of the credit for their exceptional textural contributions. 

More on The National: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm

“Abel” – The National 
(Words/music: The National, available on Alligator, Beggars Banquet 2005) 

The National, circa the Boxer album, leaned toward songs that gradually revealed details over time.  Through repeated listening, different lyric fragments or layers of sound emerged from the mix, adding one more piece to the final picture.  That’s not to say that Boxer doesn’t have immediate gratification; rather, many of the songs filled in the details after a few spins.  My experience with its predecessor Alligator went in the opposite direction.  Knowing my personal history with Boxer, it surprised me that I tended toward the more immediate songs on the album.  

So as I found myself leaning toward the more visceral songs, I kept coming back to “Abel.”  At first, it was for its rawness – its guitars and stomping drums reminded me of the intensity in their live shows.  Then, after a few listens, the line between these two seemingly different incarnations of the band appeared clearer.  Sure, Matt Berninger repeats that one lyric with a growl he set aside on most of Boxer, he uses repetition frequently to help tell his stories.  “Ada,” for instance, thrives around a main lyric that travels elliptically.  Berninger’s knack for character development comes across clearer when he’s telling a story, but he’s just as immersed in a character on “Abel” as he is on one of his more linear songs.  He may sound like he’s stuck in a vicious circle, but that’s by design.  The anxiety and excessive repetition only underscore the fact that this narrator’s mind isn’t right, and the more he recognizes it, the worse he feels.  When he escapes from this loop, he only manages brief fragments of communication before slipping right back in.  Berninger and his band put us right inside the eye of the storm, alternating between pushing us into the madness and letting it swirl around uncontrollably.  

More on The National: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm

“Slow Show (Live)” - The National
(Words/music: The National, originally available on Boxer, Beggar’s Banquet 2007)

Last night at a show in Boston, the National’s Matt Berninger prefaced “Slow Show” with a story about a guy who e-mailed him asking him to dedicate the song to him so that he could propose to his girlfriend at the show.  Berninger held off on replying until right before the show and asked (perhaps jokingly, perhaps fortuitously) if it was “still on.”  The guy wrote back and said that no, adding that his girlfriend dumped him and (the sucker punch) took another guy to the show.  The audience, who Berninger had in his hands from the opening note, groaned on cue.  Presumably, the spurned boyfriend honed in on the “you know I dreamed about you / for twenty-nine years before I saw you” line with good reason – as a non-sequitur, it’s an incredibly endearing sentiment and a beautiful statement of love.  However, “Slow Show” isn’t as simple as this one line; in fact, it sounds more like a relationship ready to fray than one ready to tie the knot..

As with most of the National’s songs about love, “Slow Show” sets its sights on tension rather than contentment.  Berninger’s characters seem genuinely conflicted and often try to reconcile one emotion with another (or an emotion with a contradictory action).  In “Slow Show,” his protagonist feels distracted and awkward at a party, thinking about mistakes, nervousness, and ultimately going home to his lover.  He declares that he made a mistake yet never gets specific about it, and ultimately it doesn’t matter.  It’s his general confusion and his longing that borders on desperation that makes me question the relationship’s stability.  It’s clear that he’s in love, but the way he describes it with such desperation makes me think that he’s longing for something that’s lost.  Again, the specifics aren’t necessary here because Berninger sets the mood with his lyrics, creating specific images yet leaving enough room for the listener to put him or herself in the narrator’s place.  It’s this balancing act between the specific and the general (along with some excellent arrangements) that makes Boxer so captivating.  Even if these songs aren’t typical “love songs,” they approach love from more nuanced places.  While we need both bright love songs and sad breakup songs to match (or alter) our moods, songs like “Slow Show” fill in the gaps when love isn’t as simple as “I love you” or “I hate you.”

More on The National: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm

“Jesus Saves, I Spend” – St. Vincent
(Words/music: Annie Clark, available on Marry Me, Beggar’s Banquet 2007)

For someone who appears so emotionless in her album covers, Annie Clark has a wonderful sense of humor.  Her first album Marry Me comes from an Arrested Development joke, and contains many playfully clever songs.   “Jesus Saves, I Spend” takes a nod from the title’s pun and sounds slightly off-kilter.  Clark puts the song in triple meter, making it feel like a slightly drunken waltz.  Still, Clark executes all of the elements that make the song seem a little goofy with precision.  Her backing vocals and bursts of distorted guitar seem whimsical rather than sloppy or ill-timed, and Clark’s main vocal line nimbly bounds from measure to measure over the arrangement.  Specifically, using her own voice as the persistent backing vocal line gives the song a strange, almost claustrophobic feel; it almost sounds like we’re inside her head, listening to her navigate all of the different thoughts shooting in and out each second.  This speaks highly of Clark’s ability as an arranger – even with all of these different ideas competing in her song, she adeptly pulls everything together.  The final product might sound a little strange, but it’s clearly odd by design, as Clark sounds consistently in command, making these disjointed parts sound like a cohesive whole.

Clark released her second album Actor this week and after a couple listens I’m struck by her musicianship even more than I was on Marry Me.  I saw her perform live last fall and was blown away by her technical prowess, and Actor drives that aspect home.  Her songs shift moods at an even quicker pace, often in the middle of a song, as the opening track (and probably More Songs Considered candidate) “The Strangers” shifts about two thirds into it.  If “Jesus Saves, I Spend” drives home her skills as an arranger, Actor represents a more mature songwriter willing to maximize her musical talents.