Review Summary: Pour another glass of wine. The National's debut isn't as bad as you may think.
Even by indie rock standards, The National’s self-titled debut album is nothing short of greatness, in its own special way. Amidst an otherwise prolific arrangement of LPs, this is where the ideas all budded in a musically growing band, where elements of what would later be more widely recognized as the true National sound came together.
The National formed in New York City by way of Cincinnati as most bands typically do in their younger stages, that is, as a fellowship of musicians coming together to play music. Evidence of a shaky, unsure path show in the early life of the band, but the difference here as opposed to say a band of high school kids is the age discrepancy. Band members were almost thirty years old at the time of recording and touring. That’s not to say the result of their efforts as a band struggling to make a name were in vain. Sure, the initial push of touring in America and Europe proved unsuccessful, and perhaps even the music itself is lacking in areas, but that doesn’t go without spots of brilliance and optimism within the records’ twelve tracks.
What we see here is a group of men working towards efforts in a successful career as musicians. Not only do they possess the skill and prowess in the Dessner brothers’ complimenting guitars and Bryan Devendorf’s drumming, but perhaps what truly makes the band’s sound unique is the peculiar yet loveable baritone of lead singer Matt Berninger. The effervescent bitter, yet smart lyrics pinch a nerve with listeners struggling too with issues of love. In “Cold Girl Fever”, Berninger personifies the feeling of frustration in context to the opposite gender,
“Do not tell me I’ve changed
You’re just raising your standards
Do not give me away
I am the same
I am the same”
The thought of Berninger’s experience here being told as a way of self-righteousness is just one of many adaptations kept in future songwriting efforts (Brainy). Perhaps he is simply stating that which he thinks is true, but the internal struggle to know what is right is something the songwriting maintains throughout this album. Whatever the matter, other instances of songwriting at times take too far a step of elementary lyricism. When looking at the circumstances of these men in the band, and the often times childish tales of chasing and having hearts broken by women, it pays tribute all too much to a younger audience, even though the members of the band at this point are much older. Even in a song like “29 Years”, the self-loathing portrayed here tells the listener what kind of woman Berninger is truly looking for, versus what you’d see much later in their career in a song like “Slow Show” off of Boxer. There, the woman he wanted in the prior is now realized in one that is tangible and real.
Again, the fact that this is a compilation of experimentation and new ideas plays a large part in the fact that this album is often times buried by audiences in what is otherwise indie royalty with their latest three efforts. That being said, there is much to gain from dissecting The National’s self titled debut. Obvious Wilco influences reign true in their sound throughout the album, as well as spots of lyrical brilliance seen on other records too. When it comes down to it, I think the record was made in a state of haste and nervousness, and you can feel that nervousness right from the beginning in “Beautiful Head’s” awkward harmony, or “Son’s” extremely personal lyrics. Some like the raw sound of the record, and others just push it away entirely, but consider it a beginning chapter of what would ultimately be a grand output in later efforts by the band. Don’t let the image of Scott Devendorf lounging poolside turn you away from listening!
