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Post by joker on Mar 9, 2007 1:32:51 GMT -5
Tracklist:01 Fake Empire 02 Mistaken for Strangers 03 Brainy 04 Squalor Victoria 05 Green Gloves 06 Slow Show 07 Apartment Story 08 Start a War 09 Guest Room 10 Racing Like a Pro 11 Ada 12 Gospel Peter Katis (Interpol, Spoon) aided the NYC-via-Cincinnati quintet in "Boxer"'s production and mixing, and Fred Kevorkian (Ryan Adams, Regina Spektor, Willie Nelson) handled the mastering. Beggars Banquet will release it on May 22. ------------------------------------------- Very much looking forward to this. It hasn't leaked yet, as far as I can tell. "Boxer" is the follow-up to their previous album, the very good "Alligator". You can check out some of those songs at their MySpace page, and the others can likely be found at The Hype Machine. Mp3's for some The National's earlier material are available for free at their official site. More info about the band, including additional audio & video, is at the label's site.
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Post by joker on Mar 9, 2007 1:38:26 GMT -5
Pitchfork InterviewThe National's Berninger Talks Boxer, Baseball, CYHSYSufjan Stevens, Doveman lend talents to new National LPJust this week, we announced the title, tracklist, and release date of the National's fourth album, Boxer. The 12-track set arrives May 22 via Beggars Banquet and features, according to Billboard.com, Mr. Sufjan Stevens tickling the ivories on "Racing Like a Pro" and "Ada", Clogs violist Padma Newsome contributing arrangements, Doveman's Thomas Bartlett handling keyboards, and NYC folkie Marla Hansen lending backing vocals. Even more recently, we spoke to the band's singer, Matt Berninger, about Boxer, his band's relationship with 2005 tourmates Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, how they feel about their hometown, and why the Mets are less heartbreaking than the Reds. cont'd
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Post by joker on Mar 9, 2007 2:18:03 GMT -5
More tour dates, in addition to those listed in the previous post's article (in Europe & NYC): www.prefixmag.com/blog/prefix/2007/03/08/national-tour/Fans of The National outside of New York City, there’s good news. Following up on the band announcing a four-night stand at the Bowery Ballroom at the end of May, The Natty has now made it known that they’ll be heading out to other cities in June. All of this of course comes on the heels of their more-hotly-anticipated-every-day next album, Boxer, out May 22nd on Beggar’s Banquet.6/2 Philadelphia, PA – Johnny Brenda’s 6/4 Montreal, QE – Cabaret Just Pour Rire 6/5 Toronto, ON – Opera House 6/6 Detroit, MI – Magic Stick 6/7 Chicago, IL – Metro 6/8 Minneapolis, MN – The 400 Bar 6/9 Madison, WI – TBA 6/11 St. Louis, MO – Duck Room 6/12 Louisville, KY – Headliners 6/13 Atlanta, GA – The Earl 6/14 Manchester, TN – Bonnaroo 6/15 Cincinnati, OH – 20th Century Theater 6/16 Columbus, OH – The Basement 6/18 Cleveland, OH – Beachland Ballroom 6/19 Pittsburgh, PA – Rex Theater 6/20 Washington, DC – 9:30 Club 6/21 Boston, MA – Middle East Downstairs 6/25 San Diego, CA – Casbah 6/26 Los Angeles, CA – El Rey 6/27 San Francisco, CA – Bimbo’s 365 Club 6/28 Portland, OR – Berbatis Pan 6/29 Vancouver, BC – Richard on Richards 6/30 Seattle, WA - Neumos
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Post by jaxxalude on Mar 10, 2007 11:37:06 GMT -5
I can see his appeal and why he's so appreciated in some circles. But it's not really for me.
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Post by joker on Mar 17, 2007 0:42:27 GMT -5
Apparently, and maybe of interest to some, their music has been in three episodes of "One Tree Hill". - The song, "Daughters of the Soho Riots", from the album Alligator, was in last season's episode "Who Will Survive, and What Will Be Left of Them" (originally aired 03/29/06). - The song, "Lucky You", from the album Sad Songs for Dirty Lovers, was in the current season's episode "Resolve" (originally aired 1/24/07). - The song, "About Today", from the Cherry Tree EP, was in the current season's episode "Sad Songs For Dirty Lovers" -- also the title of a National album! -- (originally aired 02/14/07). I guess someone over there is a fan.
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Post by joker on Mar 17, 2007 22:39:44 GMT -5
'Mistaken for Strangers' will be the first single, to be released in the UK on April 30th.
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Post by joker on Mar 20, 2007 13:13:32 GMT -5
Video: The National: "Start A War" (Live on 'The Take Away Show') La Blogotheque's "The Take Away Show" series is a smart concept: Take artists out of their usual performance spaces, put them in front of new scenery, and let that become part of the recording. It helps, of course, that their displaced environments are the scenic streets and houses of France. According to Blogotheque, the National had just finished a meal when they pulled out their instruments to gather around a large table for the filming of this track. The song they play, "Start a War", is set to appear on their upcoming May album, Boxer. Wine and dishes are still set out, and the people around the table (band members or not) tap out a little beat on their wine glasses while the band picks out a simple, acoustic guitar melody. Everything becomes part of the song-- even the little flick singer Matt Berninger makes when he lights a cigarette midway through. ( via La Blogotheque) 2nd video: "Ada"Afterwards, we climbed high into the mountains where a glimmering chapel awaited, leaning out into the surrounding mountains. After countless requests and supplications for the song Ada the band played it twice : the first time with dancing, and the second with a beautiful choir of 15. It was a magical ending to the evening, which could have only happened in the south. clicky
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Post by joker on Mar 22, 2007 17:32:54 GMT -5
New National - "Fake Empire"Oh yes, the first track from Boxer is here. Though the record's a star-studded affair (Sufjan on piano for a few tracks, Doveman lending his keys to others), pretty sure this one is pure National. Sounds like Matt's got Big issues on his mind, and the sweet simplicity of this cut's first half says it all; set to a bare, piano-student progression, Berninger's baritone notes "we're half awake in a fake empire," describing us with "bluebirds on our shoulders," "picking apples, making pie" and walking with "diamond slippers on." In typical National fashion, the track shifts into an adroitly arranged passage -- with a smooth horn section, snapping snare shots, and full band interplay -- and though we'd love to delve into the track's sociopolitical issues (not really), we're just glad to to have a taste, finally, of the album. mp3 at the link above
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Post by joker on Apr 18, 2007 16:55:06 GMT -5
For inquiring ears, the album has leaked.
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oscillations.
Diamond Member
Opinion = Fact
I was faced with a choice at a difficult age.
Joined: February 2005
Posts: 10,130
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Post by oscillations. on Apr 19, 2007 1:05:34 GMT -5
They are opening for Arcade Fire.
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Post by joker on May 3, 2007 13:35:14 GMT -5
^Sweet, as if I needed another reason to go see them live! -------- Dark Victory: The NationalMATT BERNINGER, LEAD singer of Brooklyn band The National, prefers wine onstage. Yet the noirish baritone he uses to weave fragmented tales of trench coat-wearing bodyguards, doomed romances and assignations on silvery New York City streets makes him sound more like a bourbon-swilling creature of late nights and lovers' fights, a guy you'd join at a dive bar to swap war stories. For a band that specializes in dark anthems of insecure boyfriends, trophy wives and white-collared stiffs trying to climb the corporate ladder, The National has a lot to be downright gleeful about these days. After three critically admired (if not always mega-selling) records and years of touring, "sometimes driving eight hours to play for eight people," says Berninger, "we're in a new spot, where there will be a bunch of people paying attention to our new record from the beginning." That disc, "Boxer," won't be out until May 22; a national tour, with a June 20 gig at the 9:30 Club follows. But the quintet — frontman Berninger, and two pairs of brothers, Aaron (bass/guitar) and Bryce Dessner (guitar) and Scott (guitar/bass), and Bryan Devendorf (drums) — will reveal many of its tracks on Friday at Constitution Hall opening for fellow chamber rockers (and indie "it" band) Arcade Fire. "The first time we met them, we played a show together in Amsterdam," says Berninger. "We'd thought of it as a double bill, but the truth is, they were doing a show in the main hall, and we played in the basement later — the after-hours band for leftover stragglers." Photo courtesy Beggars BanquetBut critical and commercial buzz for The National's 2005 disc, "Alligator," changed things for the five friends from Cincinnati, who formed the band in Brooklyn in 1999. Less alt-country and mellow than the band's earlier offerings, its thrumming dual guitars, tight drumming and shadowy singing invited comparisons to everything from Nick Cave to Joy Division. On that album and the new one, The National is saved from any mope-rock murk, partially thanks to the band's secret weapon and unofficial sixth member, Aussie multi-instrumentalist Padma Newsome. His viola and violin riffs add to the impassioned rockers of "Alligator" and embellish the moodier, quieter "Boxer." The Raymond Chandler-meets-Chagall lyrics that Berninger growls are what make "Boxer" and this band so easily wedged in your brain. In "Ada," he sings of waiting for a woman "inside an empty tuxedo with grapes in my mouth." The obliqueness is intentional. "They aren't exactly stories as much as moments, little scenes. I like songs that allow you to color it in yourself." "Boxer" finds the boys in the band in a more optimistic place than earlier records, with tracks that speak about reviving relationships with lost friends and lovers. "Yeah, 'Boxer' is more peaceful," says Berninger. "We'd been touring a lot, and we wanted to chill out a little, stay home and reconnect to our lives. There's a sense of the characters being worn down a bit, trying to regain their footing." The surefooted sounds on "Boxer" suggest that The National never lost it musically anyhow.
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Post by joker on May 4, 2007 16:08:52 GMT -5
New National Video - "Mistaken For Strangers"At this point we know a lot more about the National's day jobs than we do about this first clip from the band's excellent album Boxer, but after watching we're gonna guess the shoot stayed under budget. "Mistaken For Strangers"'s shadow rock is an album standout, and director Tom Berninger (singer Matt's bro) plays that dark card, casting long shadows and keeping it loose with lots of camera decapitation, stuffing the band in Matt's Brooklyn apartment. Matt told Room Thirteen: We tried to expose the energy of the band, it's not a Björk video. It's kind of low-fidelity concept, there are lots of people holding video cameras getting in shot; I guess it's a kind of meta-video. I really love this video, although we've been told it's not very MTV friendly! We agree! But they don't. So, watch it at MTV.
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Post by joker on May 7, 2007 11:02:47 GMT -5
The National "Mistaken For Strangers"Single Review (Contactmusic)It's on the edge - that metallic clunk, it's teetering on the edge towards feedback, before a hollow apocalyptic drum tattoo hurls everything over the precipice while Matt Berninger's gravest tones meticulously pick apart the hapless fate of some anonymous drone. It's the darkest of comedies in heavyweather stream-of-consciousness - "you get mistaken for strangers by your own friends... you wouldn't want an angel watching over you - surprise surprise, they wouldn't want to watch" - but by the end it's clear that The National have returned with a stunning statement of intent as a lift-off for forthcoming album Boxer. If this barnstorming track anything to go by that record is going to be an absolute belter. Somewhat unexpectedly - but wonderfully - B-side Black Slate is not only even better but even more lyrically unhinged. The backing is an insistent nagging chug - almost freeway music - that wheedles its way inside while Berninger shakes out the contents of his psyche over the floor and examines the mess. It's all bees flying out of his cracked "buzzing three-storey hotel" of a head, plans to kidnap celebrities and push girls off bikes before locking everything back "upstairs for the grand finale". Meanwhile, third track Santa Clara decelerates into littoral wake atmospheres and brooding tribal organ with funereal grandeur, drifting towards a gorgeous dustbowl chorus and a slightly incongruous trumpet coda. Fantastic.
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Post by joker on May 9, 2007 16:45:23 GMT -5
The National - BoxerLAist Review (mp3s available at the link) Boxer, out May 22 on Beggars Banquet, is the kind of record that makes you want to do nothing with your life. More specifically, The National’s fourth, full-length album is an offering of unfussy rock that is neither sentimental nor whiny, rather, a perfectly romanticized malaise that could convince even the most upwardly mobile type-A to consider a path of murky, scotch-fueled depression. Matt Berninger’s confident and dreamy bass-baritone opens the record by quietly guiding the piano to the drums on Fake Empire, and you can almost see him sitting like a cool sadsack at a dusty truckstop somewhere. That imagery saturates the album, though I recall no mention of dust or trucks. Because The National does understated so well, flourishes like layered background vocals, choruses of horns and gentle swells go a long way to enhancing the overall sound. 'Mistaken For Strangers' stands out with its twitchy pop precision and fleeting moments of Interpol drone, 'Green Gloves' is like a pretty and sad memory of not getting what you wanted, while 'Slow Show' is destined for hipster-in-love mixes wanting to convey that eternally complex “I’m totally into you” sentiment. Also noteworthy is a guest appearance by Sufjan Stevens playing piano on tracks 'Racing Like a Pro' and 'Ada'. This must-have for summer will take the pressure off of feeling good, and the edge off of feeling bad.
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Post by busyboy on May 11, 2007 18:11:34 GMT -5
I like it very much.
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Post by joker on May 14, 2007 16:01:50 GMT -5
Rolling Stone reviewRS rating: 4 stars by: Rob Sheffield Let's talk about the drummer a minute. Bryan Devendorf's the name. He plays in the National, who do brooding Leonard Cohen-Nick Cave-style melancholy, except he's not brushing the drums elegantly, he's pounding, yet he amps up the piano, strings and guitar. He's a huge part of the reason the National built up a global reputation with their excellent 2005 album, Alligator, and on Boxer he's even louder, hence better. The songs are subtler, statelier, with Matt Berninger's baritone exuding lonesome warmth. "Slow Show" and "Mistaken for Strangers" are standouts, while "Racing Like a Pro" imitates the last thing about Leonard Cohen any normal band would try -- his guitar playing -- with typically powerful results. In "Apartment Story," when Berninger murmurs, "We'll stay inside till somebody finds us," it's both romantic and terrifying, and the drums kick it all the way home.
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Post by joker on May 15, 2007 12:20:30 GMT -5
Coming out fighting: The National talk to DiS about their new Boxer LPIn an anonymous-looking London hotel, blearily contemplating another long day of interviews over his first coffee of the day, Matt Berninger knows a thing or two about dulling routine. His band, The National, legendarily started life when its members gave up their well-paid office jobs to cut their teeth on the music industry with their wryly-observed, literate brand of alt-rock. They embarked on a mind-numbing nine-month tour of Europe and North America in 2005 after third LP Alligator became sleeper hit of the year and a staple fixture on critics’ end-of-year album polls. By the time they came to penning material for the follow-up, the band faced that oldest of predicaments – what do you write about when you’ve seemingly spent an eternity living out of a suitcase? Says Matt: “I wrote a lot of the lyrics in reaction to being on the road with Alligator so much and losing connection with friends and your foundations with normal life.” “There’s a phrase on the record that goes ‘stay inside our rosy-minded fuzz’, which is like that delusional state of mind where you tell yourself that everything’s fine. The characters are in many ways avoiding reality – there’s a lot of imagery in some of the songs, like the ‘bluebirds on our shoulders’ in ‘Fake Empire’, that’s kind of surreal, dancing imagery, it has that unreal feel to it. “A lot of the characters in the songs are at some sort of crossroads in terms of growing up, they’re trying to hold on to parts of their fantasies or youths. A lot of them are struggling to avoid something. “But it’s like they’re almost embracing it, like the war only comes into the record on the television, it’s in the background while people are sat round drinking cocktails or in swimming pools.” Matt is understandably fighting shy of calling Boxer a protest record just yet though. “It’s more of a call to stay asleep than a wake-up call.” That last wisecrack is revealing: as a lyricist, Matt is at his best playing the bemused commentator (or “genial fatalist”, as one reviewer succinctly put it) rather than the tub-thumping moralist. Part of the band’s considerable appeal is a certain hangdog charm which means their everyman subjects are never viewed from any kind of pedestal. Of course, their claim to underdog status has been weakened since the success of Alligator, and a certain level of expectation is riding on its predecessor matching that record’s gold standard. Did the band struggle with that knowledge? Guitarist Aaron Dessner: “We appreciated that people would listen to it, whether they would like it or not. Every other time we’ve been to the studio we’d have no idea if anyone was actually gonna hear what we were doing, so you know it was inspiring, but the record was hard to make, although I think that’s just ‘cause we were hard to satisfy ourselves.” Matt: “It was a long, tough process in many ways, in a sense we’ve always felt like underdogs and we’ve survived a long time without anyone paying us much attention.” Their painstaking efforts have not been in vain: Boxer is a beautifully-arranged record, with a fleet of orchestral accompaniments – brass, strings, woodwind – acting as key components in its sombre, thoroughly grown-up sound. “I wouldn’t say there’s more instrumentation, there’s just different instrumentation,” says Aaron. Matt: “There’s just more room around the different parts, which I think sounds better.” Aaron: “Padma (Newsome, orchestral arranger for Alligator and erstwhile member of Connecticut chamber quartet Clogs) had more of an input this time round. He was working with us as we were writing, so the arrangements are more integral to the songs rather than recorded after the fact. “We have a lot of different musical influences in the band, especially my brother who plays a lot of contemporary chamber music, and I think I’m getting into that, so as we were writing songs we were thinking outside of what we’d done before, outside of our usual rock settings, so on ‘Squalor Victoria’ there’s no bass or electric guitar." Aaron mentions that the band decided to drop one song which would have made a great single from the tracklisting because it “didn’t fit” – do the band enjoy the process of paring down material for an album, or is it a fraught affair? Matt: “It’s like a chess game, where we’ll know that someone loves a certain song, so we might take something that we’re not really that attached to and act like we love it so much so we can be all like, ‘well okay if you drop that one I’ll drop mine which you know I really love.’” Aaron: “It gets pretty bad while we’re making an album, but I suppose that’s just because we all want to end up with something we can believe in. It’s pretty hard to call something finished.” For all that, Boxer is a remarkably complete-sounding record, one that will surely do much to widen their burgeoning cult appeal, and one which certainly marks The National out as anything but routine.
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Post by joker on May 15, 2007 13:26:31 GMT -5
The National's AnthemsIf Springsteen is right, the glory days for Brooklyn's best rock band may lie just ahead
by Rob Harvilla May 15th, 2007 11:46 AMNo one knew quite how to react Tuesday night when Matt Berninger, frontman for Brooklyn quintet the National, started hopping around maniacally on one foot and screaming My mind is not right! My mind is not right! My mind is not right!, addressing this violent proclamation largely to the ceiling. This is unsettling opening-act behavior. The sold-out crowd, ultimately gathered here at Harlem's luscious United Palace Theatre to see the almighty Arcade Fire, regarded Matt with amusement and concern. The screaming, we'd mostly expected, My mind is not right! being the relentless chorus to "Abel," one of the catchiest (and loudest) songs on the National's excellent '05 record Alligator. The hopping though—strange. Especially since "Abel" came early in the set, and Matt precariously wobbled and bounced through every song thereafter, mostly quieter, calmer, subtler, more piano-driven affairs. The effect was disorienting. "Is he hurt or something?" demanded the woman next to me. Huh. Either that or it was an artistic flourish, some sort of metaphor—a political statement about American isolation—perhaps. Perhaps not. "I actually tripped over myself—my microphone stand," Matt admits the following afternoon, having hobbled from Radio City Music Hall (where both the National and the Arcade Fire would perform again that evening) to a nearby café. Matt considered lying about this, passing it off as an homage to Michael Stipe, or maybe Jethro Tull. Why bother, though? "I probably looked like an idiot," he says, resigned. "That's showbiz." "I thought you were really drunk, and you fell down and you couldn't stand up," admits bassist-guitarist Aaron Dessner—one of the National's two sets of siblings (his brother Bryce and Bryan and Scott Devendorf round out the band)—as they reflect on the show. "I was about to get angry, like, 'C'mon!' " "I think Bryan at one point was like, What are you doing?" Matt recalls. "I had tears in my eyes—'I'm hurt!' " Bryan, meanwhile, evidently had snare-drum issues. Matt and Aaron don't seem too happy about Tuesday night's set. Opening-act ennui, maybe. Or perhaps they were dwarfed and intimidated by the United Palace Theatre—a frilly monster of a venue, considering the National, Cincinnati expats and longtime Brooklynites all, once regarded selling out the Mercury Lounge as the pinnacle of success. Consider also that they're opening for the Arcade Fire, a cultural phenomenon in full orgiastic arena-rock bloom, with enough joyous spectacle and grandma-throttling enthusiasm to make Justin Timberlake look like Leonard Cohen. Any band in such a delirious environment would look tremendously subdued. And the National are already profoundly laid-back guys: Although near set's end, Matt hopped menacingly through "Mr. November," the band's loudest (and finest) song to date—this time directing screams of I won't fuck us over! I'm Mr. November! I'm Mr. November! I won't fuck us over! at the ceiling—the band mostly favors intricate, slow-to-mid-tempo, almost funereal barroom laments. Bukowskian, but benevolent, and in slow motion. Like the Arcade Fire, there's more than a touch of the Boss at work here, but whereas the headliners channeled fist-pumping, crowd-elating Springsteen, the National preferred the bummed, beery, forlorn flipside. "By comparison, we're pretty dismal," Aaron says. Like Nebraska opening for Born to Run. Springsteen evidently loves the National, by the way. "We hung out with him one night after this Nebraska tribute," Aaron recalls. "One thing he talked a lot about was, as your audience grows, you've gotta figure out how to play to the people in the very back, standing up. I remember thinking, 'That's pretty irrelevant advice for us right now.' I think he had a skewed idea of how big we are. Now it's all coming true." "He gave U2 the exact same advice he gave us," Matt adds. "You gotta create the wave, and then you gotta ride the wave," Aaron explains, stifling a giggle. "Bruce was under the impression we were pretty huge," Matt concludes, not stifling a giggle. "Still good advice. Someday we will have an opportunity to use it." That joke just isn't funny anymore. All told, the National spent about a week as the Arcade Fire's kindling in giant sheds—from where he's sitting, Matt can see the Radio City marquee, a sight he once only enjoyed while watching TV or Woody Allen movies. Both bandmates demur and say they prefer smaller crowds, more intimate venues. Fair enough. But Alligator was a huge slow-burn hit with critics and fans, thus stoking a huge anticipatory demand for the follow-up, Boxer, out next week. Some folks—and by some folks, I mean, at the very least, me—suspect the National could be the next huge indie-arena success story, following the same exhilarating trail blazed by the Arcade Fire, the Shins, and Modest Mouse. But even superfans are somewhat shocked at how intense that anticipation has gotten: At the end of the month, the National will headline five consecutive sold-out Bowery Ballroom shows. Monday through Friday. A full work week. That's Sufjan Stevens/Bright Eyes kinda shit. Suddenly, Springsteen doesn't look so deluded. This is unexpected and wonderful and slightly odd, considering Boxer itself doesn't attempt anything terribly anthemic or orgiastic. It doesn't act like a triumphant, overreaching breakout record—no one track leaps out at you with the vicious force of even "Mr. November." Instead, rising above the intricate multi-guitar tapestries that made Alligator so memorable, lilting piano takes the lead here and runs throughout an album best taken all at once, in one sitting—a dangerous proposition in the single-download age. Its climactic centerpiece is the deceptively titled "Anthem," a shy, hands-in-pockets lullaby with a lovely coda that finds Matt, in the resonant baritone that defines him the 98 percent of the time he's not screaming at the ceiling, purring, "You know I dreamed about you/For 29 years/Before I saw you." To put it in Springsteenian terms, this all isn't dismal enough to be Nebraska, exactly, but it rocks no harder than, say, Tunnel of Love. Which is fine, which is fine. It's a grower, from a band that seems to specialize in growers. Alligator didn't catch fire immediately; Matt notes that a few publications gave it mediocre reviews initially, only to circle around months later with much louder, much more favorable opinions. Boxer, too, may take a while to settle in. This is by design. "The songs we end up getting the most attached to when we're making a record are the ones that grew on us," Matt says. Aaron is even blunter: "We usually throw out the catchiest ones, because they sound like we were forcing it." "Often the songs that are immediate for us, that are immediate and catchy, they're appealing because they're familiar in some way," Matt explains. "Those songs, after three or four listens, they lose their shine. They don't hold our interest as much. It's the odd ducks that stick with us." That oddness is doubly true of the National's lyrics—Matt is prized for a bizarre, non sequitur sensibility that results in opening lines like "They're gonna send us to prison for jerks." And though Boxer song titles like "Fake Empire" and "Start a War" suggest a blatant, Bright Eyes sort of political screed, in reality Matt tries to set societal calamity in the background this time: something on the TV, something his characters wish to disconnect from and avoid. The term he's settled on is "fuzzy-headed." The Radio City marquee looms just outside as he explains this, of course. Playing there—the elaborate pageantry of it all—gives him a queasy Miss Saigon sort of feeling, he jokes. Like or not, though, as subtle as the National tries to play it, a spring awakening seems to have already begun.
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Post by joker on May 16, 2007 16:35:03 GMT -5
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Post by joker on May 17, 2007 1:09:36 GMT -5
The National - Fighting Like A Boxerby: Danuta KeanThe National are in town to promote Boxer, their long awaited successor to their breakthrough album Alligator. musicOMH.com caught up with the band for the first time in two years at the end of a long, hard day promoting and asked, "What took you so long?" The guys look knackered. Slumped on a sofa Matt Berninger, lyricist and lead singer, and Aaron Dessner, guitarist and bassist, with The National are near the end of the first of two days of back-to-back media interviews. They flew in on the red-eye from New York that morning and by the time I walk into the room at half five have the hunted look the terminally exhausted acquire when their brains are worn out by too many questions. It is the downside of being The Next Big Thing - and when you have The Sun chasing you for an interview, you know that you have finally earned that accolade. "Take as long as you need, we're in no hurry," Berninger says graciously. "No hurry" seems to be the band's motto. Their triumphant third album, Alligator, was a word-of-mouth hit, tearing through the consciousness of listeners and consolidating their reputation as one of the most exciting new bands around. Lyrically dextrous and musically accomplished, they have been compared to everyone from the Tindersticks and Nick Cave to The Smiths and The Pixies. The new album Boxer has been a long time coming. Why the wait? "It takes us a long time to write songs that we like," Berninger explains. "We don't just get together and crank out songs. It is a pretty slow process." Delays were caused by a punishing tour schedule, with the band crisscrossing the Atlantic several times and playing to packed audiences in increasingly larger venues. The popularity of the live shows is why they sold out so fast when the new tour was announced. "Playing live is exhilarating but very stressful," Berninger adds. Anyone who has seen his intense performance will understand why. It's like gestalt therapy: no one leaves unscathed including the band it seems. "We needed to convalesce," Dessner chips in. "What was very frightening and difficult for us after all that time on the road was wondering if we could again make songs we felt as excited about as we had before." They need not have worried. Subtler and less paranoid than the frighteningly accomplished Alligator, Boxer lacks the harsh edginess of songs like Lit Up and Friends of Mine. Its politics has also moved on from the polemic of Mr November to the reflective observations of Fake Empire and mesmerising Squalor Victoria. All together the album has an emotional resonance and maturity that shows a band at the height of their creative powers. "At certain points during the recording and writing of this one, we realised it was going to be very different from Alligator," Berninger says. He admits a "fleeting anxiety" that the difference may disappoint fans hoping for more of the same, but adds defiantly: "We would never be able to operate that way. Even if we tried we wouldn't be able to channel songs that would meet people's expectations." As Dessner describes it, writing is a laborious collaborative process in which he, brother Bryce (guitar) and brothers Bryan (drums) and Scott (guitar, bass) Devendorf, trade tapes with each other, musical thumbnails that each works on until all are happy. "We pass them back and forth and then we get together and start to shape it, seeing what has an energy," he explains. "With this album a lot of what I was doing and that rubbed off on my brother was meditative, hypnotic and rhythmic playing that subtly pulls you in and along," he adds. "It is a lot less desperate and fierce than Alligator. It is more elegant. We were searching for something that was more transportive and less angry." Whether the album has transported Dessner remains to be seen: he hasn't listened to it yet. "I still haven't gotten to the point when I have actually listened to it," he confesses, looking sheepish. "It's not because I don't love it, but it was very hard to make and it took every ounce of energy." "Aaron" - Berninger interrupts in his best infomercial voice - "you've really got to check out the new National record." Berninger's approach to his lyrics is equally labour intensive - behind Boxer are 50 discarded song sketches that he felt "just rang false" when it came to the cut. It's a surprising admission: one thing that marks out The National is their easy on the ear, stream-of-conscious lyrics, which flit naturally from grand emotion to commonplace observation. "It is definitely not stream of consciousness," he explains with emphasis. The illusion is deliberate. "If it feels like there is not effort involved, I know a lyric is close to being finished, but it takes me forever to find the right lyric for a song. It is a collageing process, putting pieces together. Sometimes it is really frustrating and I kind of lose my mind a little bit and get pretty critical. "I spend more time trying to avoid bad lyrics. So often things that I think sounds like a great lyric, I write down and put a star next to it and think, 'Oh my god, that is going to kick ass somewhere.' But no matter how you come to it, it sounds like an all caps Song Lyric." The single Fake Empire , the album's opener, proved to be one of the hardest to write, metamorphosing through many variations until the band felt happy. "There are many variations of that song that were just mot working," Berninger explains. Recording Boxer, the band broke deadline after deadline. "There were many times when we though that we were meant to be done by this date, but we kept pushing the date until we knew that we were confident with each song," he adds. Berninger's own favourite? Slow. "It has a particular weird charm and beauty to it," he says. He is right, but let's hope the title is not prophetic of the wait we will have before their next album.
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Post by joker on May 19, 2007 23:54:22 GMT -5
Not bad. No thanks to The Guardian for dragging the score down (of course, that's working on the assumption that the album is good!).
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Post by joker on May 21, 2007 1:00:32 GMT -5
New York Times reviewTHE NATIONAL“Boxer” (Beggars Banquet) By: Jon Pareles
The National’s songs embrace a frame of mind that may be more familiar from movies than from daily life: a bleary urban predawn in which a deadpan antihero drifts among alienation and yearning, cynicism and vulnerability. “You were always weird, but I never had to hold you by the edges like I do now,” Matt Berninger sings in his resigned, morose baritone. “Walk away now and you’re gonna start a war.”
Ominous ambiguity fills the National’s fifth album, “Boxer.” In “Brainy,” Mr. Berninger sings, “Think I’d better follow you around/You might need me more than you think you will.” He could be a guardian or a stalker, but behind him, the music rises reassuringly, switching from a dark minor-key verse to major-key affirmations.
The National got started in Cincinnati before moving to Brooklyn, but its music looks toward Britain. With a steady eighth-note pulse, uninflected drumbeats and layers of guitars entwined around Mr. Berninger’s midtempo melodies, its song structures revive the 1980s mope-rock of New Order and the Cure. Yet the National’s songs aren’t aimed at clubland; they’re elaborated with orchestral brasses and strings that make them weightier and more inward-looking, dissolving 1980s nostalgia in the music’s sheer intricacy.
There are verbal nuggets throughout the album — “You get mistaken for strangers by your own friends” — but it’s not the antihero sentiments that make the songs memorable; it’s the methodical yet obsessive patterns that frame them.
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banet2001
2x Platinum Member
Joined: December 2004
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Post by banet2001 on May 21, 2007 12:47:29 GMT -5
The National Boxer [Beggars Banquet; 2007] Rating: 8.6Among critics and fans, the National's third album Alligator has become synonymous with the term grower. Released to minor acclaim early in 2005, the album has since quietly and steadily built up a large, avid listenership. Matt Berninger's lyrics-- initially off-putting and seemingly obtuse in their non sequiturs and stray details-- proved unpretentiously poetic over time. His sober baritone and dogged repetition of phrases and passages made it sound like he was trying to figure the songs out in tandem with the listener. The band, meanwhile, played around the hooks instead of hard-selling them, so that in a sense, despite two previous albums and a killer EP, we all pretty much learned how to listen to the National on Alligator, eventually finding deeper shades of meanings in the words, sympathizing with Berninger's anxieties, laughing at his grim jokes, and tapping out the band's complex rhythms on desktops and steering wheels. It's a testament to the good will engendered by Alligator that fans are now likewise calling the National's follow-up, Boxer, a grower. Despite the scrutiny greeting its release (brought on by the inevitable leaks), many listeners seem to be approaching these songs patiently, giving Boxer the space and time to reveal its dark, asymmetrical passageways. In a sense, the album demands it. The same elements that kept listeners returning to Alligator (Berninger's clever turns of phrase, the band's dramatic intensity) are present on Boxer, but are now more restrained and controlled. From the first piano chords on opener "Fake Empire", the National create a late-night, empty-city-street mood, slightly menacing but mostly isolated. The 10 tracks that follow sustain and even amplify that feeling, revealing the band's range as they play close to the vest. Aaron and Bryce Dessner's twin guitars don't so much battle one another as create a unified layer that acts as a full backdrop for the other instruments, while touring member Padma Newsome's string and horn arrangements infuse songs like "Mistaken for Strangers" and the stand-out "Ada" (featuring Sufjan Stevens on piano) with subtle drama. But Boxer is a drummer's album: Bryan Devendorf becomes a main player here, never merely keeping time but actively pushing the songs around. With machine precision, his fluttering tom rhythms add a heartbeat to "Squalor Victoria" and give "Brainy" its stalker tension. In fact, the title Boxer could conceivably be a reference to the way his rhythms casually spar with Berninger's vocal melodies, jabbing and swinging at the singer's empathies and emotions. Despite this implied violence, Boxer doesn't have the same aggressive self-reckoning and psychological damage assessment of Alligator. Here, Berninger sounds like he's able to look outward from that mental space instead of further inward. He observes the people around him-- friends, lovers, passersby-- alternately addressing them directly and imagining himself in their minds. Or, as he sings on "Green Gloves", "Get inside their clothes with my green gloves/ Watch their videos, in their chairs." He sounds more genuinely empathetic than previously (the accusatory you from the first two albums is thankfully absent), toying with ambiguity and backing away from outright satire. Certain themes continue to prevail: He maintains a fear of white-collar assimilation, addressing "Squalor Victoria" and "Racing Like a Pro" to upwardly mobile hipster-yuppies ("Underline everything/ I'm a professional/ In my beloved white shirt"), and clings to his American angst ("We're half awake in a fake empire"), as though recognizing the world's craziness makes him more sane. Better even than these songs are the three mid-album tracks that toy with a love = war metaphor that miraculously avoids the obviousness that implies. On "Slow Show", over background guitar drones and a piano theme that echoes U2's "New Year's Day", he daydreams, "I want to hurry home to you/ Put on a slow dumb show for you/ Crack you up." But the capper is in the coda: "You know I dreamed about you for 29 years before I saw you." That hard-won contentment begins to crumble in "Apartment Story", in which the world invades the couple's shared space, and in "Start a War", where the possibility of loss looms threateningly. "Walk away now and you're gonna start a war," Berninger sings against the band's simple, uncomfortably insistent rhythm, his concrete fears giving the song the extra heft of the personal. Obviously, it's pretty easy to read a lot into the National's music and especially into Berninger's lyrics, but that shouldn't imply that Boxer is a willfully difficult or overly academic work. Like those on their last album, these songs reveal themselves gradually but surely, building to the inevitable moment when they hit you in the gut. It's the rare album that gives back whatever you put into it. www.pitchforkmedia.com/article/record_review/43053-boxer
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Post by joker on May 21, 2007 12:58:33 GMT -5
PopMatters ReviewThe National BoxerRating: By: Jennifer Kelly "Holy Shit... They Beat Alligator!"I am trying to stay cool here, but it’s difficult. Boxer has just shouldered its brawny way to the top of my so-far-in-2007 list. Brooding, dark, hopelessly romantic, superlatively rock when it wants to be, and almost baroquely classical when it gets tired of that, this is an album to learn to love, track by track, play by play. The National, for those who are just coming in, is comprised of two sets of brothers—Bryce and Aaron Dessner, Scott and Bryan Devendorf—and Matt Berninger (plus shadow member Padma Newsom). They met in their native Cincinnati in the early 1990s, then moved to Brooklyn. Following three releases on indie Brassland, the band made the leap to Beggars in 2005 with the wonderful Alligator, an album that extended their brooding, roots-derived but non-traditional sound to a much larger audience. A tour that year with super-hot Clap Your Hands Say Yeah followed, with more than one hipster writer wondering why CYHSY had captured all the hype when the National was clearly the better band. Two years later, the band has followed with Boxer, perhaps the best National album yet. Boxer has the same slow-burning intensity as Alligator, built from glistening piano lines and big rock guitar chords and the murmuring deep tones of Matt Berninger’s voice. Yet though these songs are instantly accessible, they are also unusually layered and complex. Consider “Fake Empire”. It begins in a flourish of piano notes, and Berninger dropping casual observations about picking apples and lacing lemonade, and builds from there. There’s a tempo change, then crazily intense mid-section with brass point and counterpoint and fractious joyful drums. Not every band could even get this down on tape, but the National makes it sound natural and unforced. The rocking songs like “Brainy” and “Squalor Victoria” may leap out at your first, but it’s the ruminative ones that burn into your cortex—“Slow Show”, “Start a War”, and “Racing Like a Pro”. Even on these slower songs, the drums have been turned up a notch, pulsing away in ritual cadences. “Slow Show”, one of the album’s best cuts, has a galloping rhythm under it, making its doomed romantic lyrics seem somehow more significant, more effortful. It’s the sort of song that ought to be too mushy, too over-the-top. Yet somehow the words “And though I dreamed about you / For 29 years before I met you”, paced by plaintive piano and pounding tom toms, feel real and true and even unadorned. Even hardened cynics who never fall for these things (yes, over here) will find themselves repressing a sigh. As before, the National’s secret weapon is Padma Newsom, the Aussie classico behind Clogs (a band that also includes Bryce Dessner). “Fake Empire” bears, perhaps, the most obvious traces of his influence, breaking into its post-classical brass quartet past the halfway mark, but the subtle warmth of strings, the edgy commentary of orchestral instruments is everywhere. The lovely “Racing Like a Pro” has some of the same baroque guitar complexity as Clogs’ “Kapsburger”, fluttering against a slow build of brass. It is all the more powerful because you never say “Oh, there’s a bit of classical guitar! How interesting.” The additional instruments and textures slip effortlessly into the songs. Lyrics are imagistic, but powerful, always seeming to mean more than they actually say. As in Alligator, there are phrases here that stick, almost immediately, in the lizard layer of your brain, their meaning somehow both obscure and obvious. “Walk away now / And you’re going to start a war”, becomes a mantra more than a song lyric, something whose whole import can’t quite be contained in the meanings of the words in it. All these elements—the warmth and humanity and musical complexity, the indelible images and koan-like puzzles, the guitar-based rock and classical embellishments—go a certain distance in explaining why Boxer is so good… but they don’t quite explain it. This album, like all great albums, somehow transcends all the factors that makes it work, absorbs them in a seamless whole and breaks your heart in the process. All hail Boxer, the album to beat for the rest of the year.
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Post by joker on May 21, 2007 13:27:23 GMT -5
Drowned in Sound reviewBy: Samuel Strang “Stay up super late tonight, picking apples, making pie, put a little something in our lemonade and take it with us…”What a dross opening verse to a record. Try to spout those sub-Springsteen lines without sounding a prat. Uttered by Matt Berninger’s reassuring croon, though, it seems so vital. Berninger seems the sort of majestic loser that you can associate with, a man ridden with gin-soaked, existential guilt. Under the dreary-eyed malaise of ‘Fake Empire’, The National return. Whilst the triumphant fist that previous LP Alligator rose may have lowered, Boxer documents the standard relationship gripes with absolute resignation and, though not quite as immediately arresting and rampant as its plaudit-acquiring predecessor, is an album of understated brilliance. In the same renounced manner as their second album Sad Songs For Dirty Lovers, downtrodden and disenfranchised, Boxer documents the secluded aspect of city life, as ‘Mistaken For Strangers’ potently alludes to distant work acquaintances. The record is full of regret and perverted maliciousness. ‘Brainy’ casually scorns that “though I keep your fingerprints in a pink folder in the middle of my table, [...] think I better follow you around”, as if a disgruntled voyeur in denial of a recent cold shoulder, delivered by Berninger with the deadpan misery and embedded dry wit of Stephen Merritt or David Berman. Boxer is far more subdued than any of The National’s previous efforts. Whilst they are forever indebted to the unassuming contribution from drummer Bryan Devendorf, who effortlessly alternates from rampant flurries to muted details, it is the subtle orchestral aspect to the record that stands out, with the same washed arrangements that Grizzly Bear and close cohorts Clogs manage to incorporate so casually. Embroiled by dealing with commitment and dedication, whilst ‘Apartment Story’ and ‘Guest Room’ are call to arms for distant gentleman lovers to "just tie your women to your wrist, give her the room to tie up the other", enlightened by a newfound infatuation, the most imposing moments on the record are those that detail a relationship’s downfall. Despite something of a lull, 'Start A War' snipes with conviction at a partner’s reluctance to confront their problems. 'Slow Show' begs to start all over again, bemoaning that “you know that I dreamed about you, for 29 years before I met you” with the stone-faced realisation that the sly fumble with the neighbour was neither particularly sly, nor worth the relationship now threatened. ‘Gospel’ closes proceedings in a suitably understated manner. Whilst this aspect to the record can initially all seem rather lukewarm, the resigned tone of Boxer is one of its finest aspects, authentically affecting and reaffirming of its state. “Stay up super late tonight, picking apples, making pie, put a little something in our lemonade and take it with us…”...dulled brilliance.
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Post by joker on May 21, 2007 15:40:22 GMT -5
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Post by joker on May 21, 2007 17:10:58 GMT -5
Paste's Band of the Week- Hometown: Brooklyn, N.Y. Fun Fact: Guitarist Bryce Dessner also plays in avant-classical collective Clogs with The National’s go-to orchestral wiz Padma Newsome. Why They're Worth Watching: Vocalist Matt Berninger’s low-slung baritone proffers some of the best lyrics in indie rock. For Fans Of: Leonard Cohen, American Music Club, Morrissey Like a dogged clock-puncher, The National has labored for years in obscurity, writing record after record of sharp, sorrowful indie rock obsessed with the tragedy and absurdity of this thing we call “living.” The band's biggest (and slowest-burning) success came in the form of 2005's Alligator, a fiery album fixated on the internal conflicts we all experience. Call it "where am I going, what am I doing and when can I sit down to my next beer?" music. Boxer, the baited-breath follow-up, stays within this thematic course, touching on loss, confusion and the sense of isolation that comes along with growing older in a city that remains forever young. Not exactly uncharted territory, but what sets The National apart is vocalist Matt Berninger's even-handed eye for scenery and detail, his knack for rummaging through the clutter of New York City with wit, charm and discerning judgment. With Boxer, even more so than its predecessor, his words seem shrewdly selective and carefully deployed, commanding empathy with both cruelty and levity. “The juxtaposition of that humor and that sincerity is what I think makes [Matt’s lyrics] resonate with people,” says bassist Aaron Dessner, slowly pulling himself from sleep in his Brooklyn apartment after a late-night practice. On the achy “Mistaken For Strangers,” Berninger tells his “showered and blue-blazered” protagonist that he wouldn’t want an angel watching over him, only to follow the blow with a bellowed punch-line, “Surprise, surprise they wouldn’t want to watch.” It’s at once painfully sad and depressingly funny. Like the lyrics, the band's music picks and chooses from the tools of NYC rock (even some of the city's musicians, as Sufjan Stevens has his turn here, and Padma Newsome of Clogs contributes all string arrangements). But The National – rounded out by Bryce Dessner on guitar, and siblings Scott and Bryan Devendorf on guitar and drums, respectively – implements them distinctly, forgoing urgency and claustrophobic posturing in favor of an over-arching reservation. Of course, Aaron maintains that the band is still writing rock songs. “There's just less desperation,” he says. “It's just a lot more subtle.” Indeed, Alligator had a temper, and it flared on tracks like "Abel" and "Mr. November." So was there ever any fear of disappointing fans who’d come to expect aggression? Not according to Aaron. “When we were actually making the record there was this feeling like, ‘Wait, where's 'Mr. November?’" he recalls. "But we couldn't endeavor to write ‘Mr November’ again. People would just be like, ‘There's the 'Mr. November' of this record,' you know? It just felt like that would be kind of dishonest.”
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Post by joker on May 21, 2007 17:12:48 GMT -5
A couple more reviews: Paste MagazineThe National - Boxer [Beggars Banquet]Rating: (out of 5) A seamlessly constructed but frequently restrained follow-up to a classicThe National’s last effort, Alligator, was one of 2005’s best—and most durable—releases. Following in that album’s bolder footsteps, Boxer is enveloping, rich and brooding but somehow less charged. Musically, The National continues getting excellent mileage from the arresting juxtaposition of propulsion and languor on songs like “Squalor Victoria,” where the staccato tom-toms tear through the grey gelatinous wash of strings like a knife fight in frame-by-frame slow motion. At moments, the mix of Berninger’s moaning voice, the occasional smart-aleck barb in the lyrics and the general patina of rumination makes The National a dead ringer for American Music Club, but unlike Eitzel’s more impressionistic creations, the songs on Boxer tend to stay within their frames and rarely careen into the weirder corners one senses they’re capable of finding. Here, most gestures remain a bit too consciously panoramic—elegant enough for comfort but often not chancy enough to be breathtaking.
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Post by joker on May 21, 2007 17:15:20 GMT -5
Slant Magazine reviewThe National Boxerby: Jimmy Newlin Aside from a few lame stabs at slow-core, The National's Alligator is a brash and explosive record with a cool, cynical center courtesy of the nonchalant bad-assness of frontman Matt Berninger, who drops elegantly nonsensical couplets like "I'm a birthday candle/In a circle of black girls" with a Tom Waits-esque grunt. Alligator hearkened back to a time of innocence—days when indie-rock actually rocked, college radio ruled airwaves, and no one knew what a podcast was, days when The Replacements and Husker Du made room for whippersnappers like Superchunk and Archers Of Loaf. In fact, Archers is the ideal reference point for Alligator, since Berninger's growly delivery can be most accurately described as Eric Bachmann-esque. Fittingly, The National's Boxer sounds a bit like Bachmann's post-Archers project Crooked Fingers. That's not necessarily a bad thing, since one can never have enough spooky Americana (or at least I can't), but Crooked Fingers never sounded as fresh or raw as Archers did, and Boxer isn't as immediately bracing as Alligator. Stick with it, though: this is an unnerving, slick piece of rock n' roll; as wraithlike as Air's moon-rock, Boxer is also as focused and rugged as a great punk record. "Mistaken For Strangers" begins with some EVOL-style guitar work—dissonant harmonics run through a delay pedal—before Bryan Devendorf's drums kick in like a machine gun at half speed. Layers of looped guitars, the sound of breaking glass, and keyboards pile up, but Devendorf's rhythms set a mood as taut and anxious as Berninger's cryptic chorus ("You get mistaken for strangers by your own friends"). In fact, most of Boxer's success is due to Devendorf's drumming: The terrific "Brainy" is driven by rolls that would make Tony Williams jealous and the distorted snares on "Guest Room" are nearly tribal. There are no flat-out rockers like Alligator's "Mr. November" or "Lit Up," but Devendorf's kit work and the rest of the band's tense blend of static hooks and reverb-based drone pack each song with a powerful sense of unease. That goes for the tracks without drums as well: "Green Gloves" and the blog hit "Let's Start A War" both sound like the type of apocalyptic folk that Rick Rubin masterminded on American V. Beggar's Banquet didn't send a lyric sheet, and I couldn't find one online: Honestly, nothing sticks out quite like the "birthday candle" line from Alligator's "All The Wine." But, ultimately, I don't think it matters too much, as Berninger's baritone is just another fascinating, eerie addition to Boxer's sonic collage, and it might be more effective if his thoughts remain mysterious or unclear. Boxer works best as a mood piece; it's also the first National release to work as a whole, and it's the best album I've heard so far this year.
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Post by joker on May 21, 2007 19:02:57 GMT -5
More reviews are in at Metacritic, and the average score is up to... !
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