Some Songs Considered

“Sleep All Summer” – The National and St. Vincent
(Words/music: Eric Bachmann, available on SCORE! 20 Years of Merge Records: The Covers!, Merge Records, 2009) 

The first ever second post on a single song!  Here’s what I said about the original version last October:

Sonically, it feels like these warm October afternoons, specifically in the way the guitar sounds.  The gently picked acoustic guitar sounds warm yet tempered by the wistful slide guitar lines that gently come and go.  Whenever the bright notes cut through to the forefront, the somber slide guitar swoops back in like a cool breeze.  Eric Bachmann and Lara Meyerratken’s vocals tug at these emotional strands as well. Bachman, especially when reaching for the higher notes, sounds bright especially when contrasted with Meyerratken’s even-keeled vocals.  It’s when they sing together that Bachmann and Meyerratken bring out the best in each other’s voices and channel that early autumnal warmth.  Even without listening to the words, it’s clear that these two characters sound conflicted – in this case, it’s a longing to reconnect with a lover while realizing that the spark is gone.  Lots of pop songs use the seasons as a metaphor for life, but few feel as focused on the moments of flux between seasons as “Sleep All Summer.”  It captures the feeling of summer’s last moments before fall.  Like the love between these characters, change is inevitable, for better or worse.

And even in June, I’m not going to argue with that logic.  If anything, The National’s Matt Berninger’s deeper voice sounds even more autumnal than Eric Bachmann.  Like Bachmann and Meyerratken in the original, Berninger and Annie Clark play off each other, letting their voices gently intertwine during the chorus without becoming completely inseparable.  It’s a faithful homage to the original without being redundant, largely because it’s nice to hear Berninger and Clark sing together.  Hearing it now at the beginning of the summer, I’m more drawn to the breezy tone rather than the somber story; in short, I hope my summer is full of evenings where “Sleep All Summer” would be an appropriate soundtrack.

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

More on St. Vincent: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm

“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