In June of 2007 the National played the Duck Room here in St. Louis, a drafty, windowless, duck-themed basement at this city's beloved Blueberry Hill burger joint. With its austerely gray atmosphere, it could easily be used to stage a performance of Endgame and generally caters to four types of artists: current indie bands on the rise; current indie bands treading water at best; once-mighty bands on a slow, pitiable decline; and Chuck Berry. There was no doubt at the time that the National belonged in that first category. Boxer had recently been released and was beginning to generate Album of the Year buzz, and plenty of people were quickly discovering that Alligator actually wasn't the group's debut LP.
A few years and another remarkable album later, this time High Violet, the National are unarguably one of indie's leading bands, feted in The New York Times, blessed with the Michael Stipe seal of approval and commonly described as being on the cusp of "mainstream" success, whatever that term means in today's mostly radio-less world. Though there was some pre-show pissing and moaning from at least one guy - few things in life compare to being cornered in a bathroom by someone ranting about the band playing a mid-sized club like the Pageant instead of a smaller, more personal venue - such griping is by now expected; every indie band whose listenership increases significantly will always have some myopic fans nostalgic for poorer days long gone.
The venues may have gotten larger, but the band's live show has still managed to retain its intimate, visceral quality even as it has become more polished. Such was the case with the group's most recent St. Louis performance, as the band drew from every LP except the oft-overlooked self-titled debut in their nearly 100-minute set. After a stately opening to "Runaway," most of the songs that followed were louder and longer than their album versions. The two-man horn section of Kyle Resnick and Ben Lanz and multi-instrumentalist Padma Newsome boosted the sound considerably and complemented the Dessner/Devendorf brothers' playing, with "Mistaken for Strangers" (dedicated to some dude named Ron), "Baby, We'll Be Fine," "Slow Show," "The Geese of Beverly Road" and "Fake Empire" all closing with full-bodied instrumental sections. "Available" was given a harsh treatment appropriate for its subject matter, with Berninger of course screaming the closing lyrics over squalls of guitar noise, before the band segued into the closing verse of fellow Sad Songs for Dirty Lovers track "Cardinal Song;" Berninger also punctuated "Bloodbuzz Ohio," "Squalor Victoria" and "Abel" with more yelling, precariously swinging the microphone stand in the air on that Alligator track. Elsewhere there was humorous stage banter about the singer's newest nickname - Dick Jagger - and his wife being/not being a cannibal, a bit of palatable guitar-rock-god preening as one or both of the Dessners stepped out for a short guitar solo, Berninger wandering around the stage and a few classically gloomy National moments via "Sorrow" and "London."
The band's encore was brief - three songs - but thrillingly wild. After a faithful version of "Vanderlyle Crybaby Geeks" that featured Newsome on violin, the band played the expected "Mr. November" - with Berninger roaming far from the stage, climbing on the railing, probably kicking a few drinks over, ending up in the pit and generally covering all corners of the Pageant except its parking lot - and ended with a blistering version of "Terrible Love," the singer standing on the railing nearest to the pit and screaming as anonymous hands either pawed at him or, more civilly, made sure he didn't fall off. Sure such antics are at least partly orchestrated and similar acts of showmanship will probably happen in the next city the band plays, but it was still cool as hell.
This ability to connect with an audience is what makes the National's live show so captivating; like their albums, in concert the band is able to sincerely express the types of everyday highs and lows to which anyone can relate. No surprise then that the night's atmosphere, sometimes something of a wild card given the Pageant's cookie-cutter aesthetics, was subdued but not catatonic, with most of the crowd intent on listening to the songs and not talking through them, the occasional catcalls about what Berninger was drinking notwithstanding. It was as flawless of a performance as I've seen; there were no lulls, deadweight songs or mailed-in efforts, and the guys all played like they were a young band fighting damn hard for an audience and not a marquee act who had the crowd in its pocket from the onset. There's no telling how many folks from that 2007 Duck Room show were in attendance, but if any of them skipped the National's latest stop here with the conviction that a band isn't worth following once its members aren't setting up their own gear, it's their loss. Certainly it's a difficult task to exceed beyond-lofty expectations, but that's exactly what the National did at the Pageant on this night.
by Eric Dennis
Showing posts with label Alligator. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Alligator. Show all posts
Wednesday, October 06, 2010
Friday, May 14, 2010
The National: High Violet
spectrumculture.com, spectrum culture, go now
The National
High Violet
Rating: 4.0/5.0
Label: 4AD
Perhaps to no one's surprise, most of High Violet is exceedingly sad. It's there in Matt Berninger's worn-down-and-weary baritone and in the drums, strings, keyboards and horns that underscore these songs and it's as sure as hell in the singer's resigned and somber lyrics. High Violet arrives with great expectations and some mainstream media attention for the Brooklyn-based National, but if the group had any doubts about matching the quality of its previous release, Boxer, they needn't have worried; though the album is somewhat of a refinement of the National's style and not any kind of dramatic departure, it's still a remarkable record that confirms the group's place as one of indie's eminent bands.
In recent interviews, Berninger stated that the group intended to make a catchy, fun record. It didn't take. Instead, High Violet plays like a near-50-minute ode to overwhelming, crushing bleakness, with most tracks unraveling like someone teetering on the verge of a full-on mental collapse. It is an album of sustained tension, as many songs - "England," "Anyone's Ghost" and the rumbling opener "Terrible Love" - threaten to explode but uncomfortably recede instead. The album's instrumentals are more aggressive than those from Boxer, but the types of outbursts that made songs like "Abel," "Slipping Husband" and the snarling mean-streaked "Available" so explosively cathartic are largely more restrained here. There is a sense of distance and isolation to the record's most affecting songs; in "Little Faith," Berninger tells of someone who's "stuck in New York/ And the rain's coming down," while in "Terrible Love," he evasively declares that "it takes an ocean not to break." These sentiments likewise creep into "England," where the narrator finds himself in a Los Angeles cathedral, lamenting "you must be somewhere in London/ You must be loving your life in the rain," as well as in "Anyone's Ghost" and its setting of "Manhattan valleys of the dead." Elsewhere, "Sorrow," "Lemonworld," "Afraid of Everyone" and "Runaway" cross panic and nervousness with more phobias and anxieties than one person should have to endure.
Very little throughout the album suggests resolution: going home "to Ohio in a swarm of bees" doesn't help - hometowns forget their native sons - and chemicals or coastal jaunts don't calm the mind either. Although such preoccupations are nothing new for the National's lyricist and earlier songs like "Watching You Well," "Patterns of Fairytales," "Daughters of the Soho Riots" and "Slow Show" all hit on similar themes, the writing is strong enough for listeners to forgive any redundancy with these older songs. There are some traces of dark humor ("I'll have my head in the oven so you'll know where I'll be") as well as hints of contentment or, at least, acceptance - "It's all been forgiven," Berninger sings on album closer "Vanderlyle Crybaby Geeks -" but such statements feel fleeting at best and are dwarfed by the album's predominantly mournful tone.
While Boxer casts its shadow over several songs - "Bloodbuzz Ohio" and "Runaway" wouldn't sound out of place there - High Violet is not the work of a band stuck in place. It brings with it a level of seriousness, maturity and honesty sometimes lacking from other indie bands' efforts. It speaks to anonymous internal struggles in a massive, indifferent world and our own muted responses in the face of such adversity, and does this without resorting to melodrama or cheap, bombastic, big-riff resolutions. It's debatable as to whether High Violet represents the National's best work to date - such arguments are exhausting anyway - but there is unarguably a gravity to both Berninger's voice and the band's musical sensibilities that carry the album. It's this combination that makes these songs so visceral and emotionally impacting.
The National
High Violet
Rating: 4.0/5.0
Label: 4AD
Perhaps to no one's surprise, most of High Violet is exceedingly sad. It's there in Matt Berninger's worn-down-and-weary baritone and in the drums, strings, keyboards and horns that underscore these songs and it's as sure as hell in the singer's resigned and somber lyrics. High Violet arrives with great expectations and some mainstream media attention for the Brooklyn-based National, but if the group had any doubts about matching the quality of its previous release, Boxer, they needn't have worried; though the album is somewhat of a refinement of the National's style and not any kind of dramatic departure, it's still a remarkable record that confirms the group's place as one of indie's eminent bands.
In recent interviews, Berninger stated that the group intended to make a catchy, fun record. It didn't take. Instead, High Violet plays like a near-50-minute ode to overwhelming, crushing bleakness, with most tracks unraveling like someone teetering on the verge of a full-on mental collapse. It is an album of sustained tension, as many songs - "England," "Anyone's Ghost" and the rumbling opener "Terrible Love" - threaten to explode but uncomfortably recede instead. The album's instrumentals are more aggressive than those from Boxer, but the types of outbursts that made songs like "Abel," "Slipping Husband" and the snarling mean-streaked "Available" so explosively cathartic are largely more restrained here. There is a sense of distance and isolation to the record's most affecting songs; in "Little Faith," Berninger tells of someone who's "stuck in New York/ And the rain's coming down," while in "Terrible Love," he evasively declares that "it takes an ocean not to break." These sentiments likewise creep into "England," where the narrator finds himself in a Los Angeles cathedral, lamenting "you must be somewhere in London/ You must be loving your life in the rain," as well as in "Anyone's Ghost" and its setting of "Manhattan valleys of the dead." Elsewhere, "Sorrow," "Lemonworld," "Afraid of Everyone" and "Runaway" cross panic and nervousness with more phobias and anxieties than one person should have to endure.
Very little throughout the album suggests resolution: going home "to Ohio in a swarm of bees" doesn't help - hometowns forget their native sons - and chemicals or coastal jaunts don't calm the mind either. Although such preoccupations are nothing new for the National's lyricist and earlier songs like "Watching You Well," "Patterns of Fairytales," "Daughters of the Soho Riots" and "Slow Show" all hit on similar themes, the writing is strong enough for listeners to forgive any redundancy with these older songs. There are some traces of dark humor ("I'll have my head in the oven so you'll know where I'll be") as well as hints of contentment or, at least, acceptance - "It's all been forgiven," Berninger sings on album closer "Vanderlyle Crybaby Geeks -" but such statements feel fleeting at best and are dwarfed by the album's predominantly mournful tone.
While Boxer casts its shadow over several songs - "Bloodbuzz Ohio" and "Runaway" wouldn't sound out of place there - High Violet is not the work of a band stuck in place. It brings with it a level of seriousness, maturity and honesty sometimes lacking from other indie bands' efforts. It speaks to anonymous internal struggles in a massive, indifferent world and our own muted responses in the face of such adversity, and does this without resorting to melodrama or cheap, bombastic, big-riff resolutions. It's debatable as to whether High Violet represents the National's best work to date - such arguments are exhausting anyway - but there is unarguably a gravity to both Berninger's voice and the band's musical sensibilities that carry the album. It's this combination that makes these songs so visceral and emotionally impacting.
Friday, January 16, 2009
The National - Sad Songs for Dirty Lovers
Rediscover: The National
Sad Songs for Dirty Lovers
Originally published at spectrumculture.com. Go visit that site. Don't make me tell you again.
Though The National's reputation is usually staked to recent albums Alligator and Boxer, many of the lyrical themes and musical styles that have garnered the band so much attention were first explored on sophomore release Sad Songs for Dirty Lovers. Released in 2003, the album marked a noticeable shift in both songwriting and instrumental dexterity for the band after their sometimes moving but clumsy self-titled debut. Whereas that debut effort was firmly grounded in Americana and country and sounded like a band still searching to find its own style, Sad Songs for Dirty Lovers marked the group's first great leap forward and laid the foundation for the widely praised albums that would later follow.
Essentially a series of sketches about relationships in various states of disintegration, many of the songs certainly live up to the album's title. Opener "Cardinal Song" immediately sets a bleak tone with its quiet backing vocals, deliberate pace, and mournful violins, as its narrator ostensibly talks to himself and offers advice that is probably less than helpful: "Never tell the one you want that you do/ Save it for the deathbed/ When you know you kept her wanting you/....Never say you miss her/ Never say a word." "90-Mile Water Wall" again relies on violins and Matt Berninger's weary baritone to craft a snapshot of a person either simply wanting to escape someone's steely gaze or to get the hell out of a crumbling mess of a relationship: "I'm waiting for a 90-mile water wall/ To take me out of your view/ I'm looking for a trap door trigger/ To drop me out of your view."
The album ends with two similar dark ballads. Against a disarmingly gentle melody, the wounded narrator of "Patterns of Fairytales" is left behind to pour over the wreckage of another failed go of it, even as he suspects his partner has other things to occupy her time: "Tonight there isn't any light under your door/ I guess you must be somewhere breathing/ Where skin and everything still know what they are for/ And blood remembers where to go." Closing song "Lucky You" displays a similar sense of bitterness. Backed by an acoustic guitar and piano that builds throughout the song, and featuring some of the band's most proficient playing, this time the man can only watch helplessly as another woman brazenly flaunts her infidelity in his face as she heads for the door: "You clean yourself to meet/ The man who isn't me/ You're putting on a shirt/ A shirt I'll never see/ The letter's in your coat/ But no one's in your head."
Yet what saves Sad Songs from devolving into an emo weep fest of overindulgent self-pity is the way both the lyrics and instruments are used to convey a wider range of complex and ugly emotions. Several songs evoke an aggression and violence in stark contrast to the torch burners mentioned previously; with their jagged guitars, insistent drums, and a heavy dose of screamed vocals, a trio of songs - "Slipping Husband," "Murder Me Rachael" and "Available" - burst with anger and rage.
Other songs exist uneasily in a space somewhere between these tales of loss and revenge. A general feeling of fatigue and resignation, which the band would later examine in Boxer, is palpable throughout the album. "We look younger than we feel/ And older than we are/ Now nobody's funny," Berninger deadpans in the atmospheric, country-tinged "It Never Happened." The subject in the lament of "Trophy Wife" discovers that promiscuity is tiresome and, in this case, debilitating: "One time you were a good rabbit/ To all the girls/ And all their lovely mothers/ You tried a piece of everything/ Now nothing turns you on." Similarly, the entendre of macho boasting in "Fashion Coat" sounds like wishful thinking from a man too worn out to care about his shortcomings: "I'll do everything to you," he brags, before the zinger comes, "but I can hardly come." The song closes with a sentiment of defeatism and boredom that contrasts with its shimmering melody, with Berninger singing "I die fast in this city/ Outside I die slow/ Everywhere I am is just another thing without you in it."
Sad Songs for Dirty Lovers is a lonely and angry album. Equal parts brooding and pissed off, its characters alternately react with resignation or rage at the various infidelities and insults lobbed like grenades into their lives. There's little sense of hope in these songs; those relationships that haven't yet mercifully ended are clearly heading toward disaster. Of course it's tempting to view these songs as Berninger exorcising his personal demons, but such an approach is narrow-minded and kills the universal emotions that are expressed in these songs. The band's playing also shows a confidence that was occasionally lacking on the debut album; it's the first time the band was able to consistently evoke often disparate moods through these arrangements. Though it never received as much critical attention or praise as either of those albums, Sad Songs for Dirty Lovers is a harrowing and brilliant album that explores the darker side of relationships.
Sad Songs for Dirty Lovers
Originally published at spectrumculture.com. Go visit that site. Don't make me tell you again.
Though The National's reputation is usually staked to recent albums Alligator and Boxer, many of the lyrical themes and musical styles that have garnered the band so much attention were first explored on sophomore release Sad Songs for Dirty Lovers. Released in 2003, the album marked a noticeable shift in both songwriting and instrumental dexterity for the band after their sometimes moving but clumsy self-titled debut. Whereas that debut effort was firmly grounded in Americana and country and sounded like a band still searching to find its own style, Sad Songs for Dirty Lovers marked the group's first great leap forward and laid the foundation for the widely praised albums that would later follow.
Essentially a series of sketches about relationships in various states of disintegration, many of the songs certainly live up to the album's title. Opener "Cardinal Song" immediately sets a bleak tone with its quiet backing vocals, deliberate pace, and mournful violins, as its narrator ostensibly talks to himself and offers advice that is probably less than helpful: "Never tell the one you want that you do/ Save it for the deathbed/ When you know you kept her wanting you/....Never say you miss her/ Never say a word." "90-Mile Water Wall" again relies on violins and Matt Berninger's weary baritone to craft a snapshot of a person either simply wanting to escape someone's steely gaze or to get the hell out of a crumbling mess of a relationship: "I'm waiting for a 90-mile water wall/ To take me out of your view/ I'm looking for a trap door trigger/ To drop me out of your view."
The album ends with two similar dark ballads. Against a disarmingly gentle melody, the wounded narrator of "Patterns of Fairytales" is left behind to pour over the wreckage of another failed go of it, even as he suspects his partner has other things to occupy her time: "Tonight there isn't any light under your door/ I guess you must be somewhere breathing/ Where skin and everything still know what they are for/ And blood remembers where to go." Closing song "Lucky You" displays a similar sense of bitterness. Backed by an acoustic guitar and piano that builds throughout the song, and featuring some of the band's most proficient playing, this time the man can only watch helplessly as another woman brazenly flaunts her infidelity in his face as she heads for the door: "You clean yourself to meet/ The man who isn't me/ You're putting on a shirt/ A shirt I'll never see/ The letter's in your coat/ But no one's in your head."
Yet what saves Sad Songs from devolving into an emo weep fest of overindulgent self-pity is the way both the lyrics and instruments are used to convey a wider range of complex and ugly emotions. Several songs evoke an aggression and violence in stark contrast to the torch burners mentioned previously; with their jagged guitars, insistent drums, and a heavy dose of screamed vocals, a trio of songs - "Slipping Husband," "Murder Me Rachael" and "Available" - burst with anger and rage.
Other songs exist uneasily in a space somewhere between these tales of loss and revenge. A general feeling of fatigue and resignation, which the band would later examine in Boxer, is palpable throughout the album. "We look younger than we feel/ And older than we are/ Now nobody's funny," Berninger deadpans in the atmospheric, country-tinged "It Never Happened." The subject in the lament of "Trophy Wife" discovers that promiscuity is tiresome and, in this case, debilitating: "One time you were a good rabbit/ To all the girls/ And all their lovely mothers/ You tried a piece of everything/ Now nothing turns you on." Similarly, the entendre of macho boasting in "Fashion Coat" sounds like wishful thinking from a man too worn out to care about his shortcomings: "I'll do everything to you," he brags, before the zinger comes, "but I can hardly come." The song closes with a sentiment of defeatism and boredom that contrasts with its shimmering melody, with Berninger singing "I die fast in this city/ Outside I die slow/ Everywhere I am is just another thing without you in it."
Sad Songs for Dirty Lovers is a lonely and angry album. Equal parts brooding and pissed off, its characters alternately react with resignation or rage at the various infidelities and insults lobbed like grenades into their lives. There's little sense of hope in these songs; those relationships that haven't yet mercifully ended are clearly heading toward disaster. Of course it's tempting to view these songs as Berninger exorcising his personal demons, but such an approach is narrow-minded and kills the universal emotions that are expressed in these songs. The band's playing also shows a confidence that was occasionally lacking on the debut album; it's the first time the band was able to consistently evoke often disparate moods through these arrangements. Though it never received as much critical attention or praise as either of those albums, Sad Songs for Dirty Lovers is a harrowing and brilliant album that explores the darker side of relationships.
Monday, July 07, 2008
Music Review: The National - The Virginia EP
A collection of demos, b-sides, and live performances, The Virginia EP is a solid release from indie darlings/morose dudes The National. Although it doesn’t match up with the band’s most recent proper release, the much feted and breathlessly praised Boxer – and with the same cover style and font as that album, the EP is clearly meant to recall it – the EP is still a worthwhile release. With 12 songs and a running time of around 45 minutes, fans of the band certainly cannot complain about not getting their money’s worth. Even better, most of the songs are keepers and worth repeated listens.
The album is divided evenly between demos, studio cuts, and live tunes. Of the four demos, “Tall Saint” and “Forever After Days” are nearly album-ready and would have fit nicely on Boxer. “Rest of Years” is pretty rough even in demo form and suffers from oddly distant vocals. Final demo “Slow Show” is markedly different from the Boxer version. With an almost robotic musical and vocal arrangement, and significantly different lyrics that also appear on b-side “Blank Slate,” the song bears little resemblance to the finished album version. The demo seems rushed and cold; it gives little hint of the remarkable take eventually included on Boxer. Those indie dweebs interested in how a song’s lyrics and instrumentation evolve can geek out and find many other differences between the demo and finished versions.
Three of the four studio cuts are National originals, with the fourth being a cover version of Caroline Martin’s “Without Permission.” Originals “Santa Clara” and “Blank Slate” were previously issued as b-sides in the UK, and opening track “You’ve Done It Again, Virginia” is a previously unreleased version (a different version appeared on the “Lit Up” single). These three originals are all representative of both The National’s sound and the themes that recur throughout Matt Berninger’s lyrics.
The EP ends with four excellent live songs that give the listener a glimpse into what The National sound like in a live setting. Although the songs suffer from the visual element being taken away, and the version of Bruce Springsteen’s “Mansion on the Hill” sometimes seems a little forced and overwrought, the three other live songs will whet fans’ appetites for an official live album.
A radio session performance of “Lucky You” presents the song in a more stripped down manner, with Berninger’s vocals sounding far more weary and defeated than what appears on Sad Songs for Dirty Lovers. “Fake Empire” and “About Today” are heavier on the horns and overall noise than their album counterparts. The reworked arrangement is used to great effect on “About Today,” which on Cherry Tree is goddamn depressing and certain to put a damper on anyone’s mood. The song’s overall theme of doubt and a relationship on the skids remains in the live cut, but added to it is a hint of the range of emotions the band is able to convey in concert.
The EP also includes Vincent Moon’s A Skin, A Night film that ostensibly covers the making of the album, interspersed with fragments of live performances. Though not exactly a booby prize, it doesn’t add much to the Boxer story, and its disorienting concert footage is an epileptic’s worst nightmare. One person’s art house documentary is another person’s nightmare of torture.
Any EP such as this is bound to have inherent flaws: the term b-side implies a certain inferiority to the songs that actually made the proper album, demos are sometimes difficult for even the most obsessed (er, dedicated) fan to listen to more than a few times, and a smattering of live songs can only hint at, and never fully convey, what it’s like to see a band on stage. Not quite a release solely for The National’s most loyal fans but also not the best starting point for those unfamiliar with the band, the Virginia EP is nevertheless a welcome addition to The National’s catalog. Fans most likely won’t walk away disappointed, but those not yet converted probably won’t be drinking the Kool-Aid if this is their first introduction to the band.
The album is divided evenly between demos, studio cuts, and live tunes. Of the four demos, “Tall Saint” and “Forever After Days” are nearly album-ready and would have fit nicely on Boxer. “Rest of Years” is pretty rough even in demo form and suffers from oddly distant vocals. Final demo “Slow Show” is markedly different from the Boxer version. With an almost robotic musical and vocal arrangement, and significantly different lyrics that also appear on b-side “Blank Slate,” the song bears little resemblance to the finished album version. The demo seems rushed and cold; it gives little hint of the remarkable take eventually included on Boxer. Those indie dweebs interested in how a song’s lyrics and instrumentation evolve can geek out and find many other differences between the demo and finished versions.
Three of the four studio cuts are National originals, with the fourth being a cover version of Caroline Martin’s “Without Permission.” Originals “Santa Clara” and “Blank Slate” were previously issued as b-sides in the UK, and opening track “You’ve Done It Again, Virginia” is a previously unreleased version (a different version appeared on the “Lit Up” single). These three originals are all representative of both The National’s sound and the themes that recur throughout Matt Berninger’s lyrics.
The EP ends with four excellent live songs that give the listener a glimpse into what The National sound like in a live setting. Although the songs suffer from the visual element being taken away, and the version of Bruce Springsteen’s “Mansion on the Hill” sometimes seems a little forced and overwrought, the three other live songs will whet fans’ appetites for an official live album.
A radio session performance of “Lucky You” presents the song in a more stripped down manner, with Berninger’s vocals sounding far more weary and defeated than what appears on Sad Songs for Dirty Lovers. “Fake Empire” and “About Today” are heavier on the horns and overall noise than their album counterparts. The reworked arrangement is used to great effect on “About Today,” which on Cherry Tree is goddamn depressing and certain to put a damper on anyone’s mood. The song’s overall theme of doubt and a relationship on the skids remains in the live cut, but added to it is a hint of the range of emotions the band is able to convey in concert.
The EP also includes Vincent Moon’s A Skin, A Night film that ostensibly covers the making of the album, interspersed with fragments of live performances. Though not exactly a booby prize, it doesn’t add much to the Boxer story, and its disorienting concert footage is an epileptic’s worst nightmare. One person’s art house documentary is another person’s nightmare of torture.
Any EP such as this is bound to have inherent flaws: the term b-side implies a certain inferiority to the songs that actually made the proper album, demos are sometimes difficult for even the most obsessed (er, dedicated) fan to listen to more than a few times, and a smattering of live songs can only hint at, and never fully convey, what it’s like to see a band on stage. Not quite a release solely for The National’s most loyal fans but also not the best starting point for those unfamiliar with the band, the Virginia EP is nevertheless a welcome addition to The National’s catalog. Fans most likely won’t walk away disappointed, but those not yet converted probably won’t be drinking the Kool-Aid if this is their first introduction to the band.
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