A Guide to The National - Your Dad's Favorite Band

An article I wrote for RadioUTD, sadly unpublished. Note at the bottom.

Four score and seven years ago (minus four score, plus eighteen years), the last great music scene to truly shake rock ‘n roll began in New York—the heart of the free world, set east in its country's chest like the heart in our own. Depending on who you ask, whether it be music historians or the people who lived it, this scene ran for almost a decade before dissembling—spawning bands and albums which, to this day, live in legend. But therein lies the problem: they live in legend. When The Strokes release a new record, or when Interpol tours, they always do so with a cautious eye towards the past—an anxiety over their legacy. These are dragons afraid to leave their mountains.

Yet there is one band from this scene that, despite carrying a legacy no less important than their contemporaries, has managed to maintain their pace since the early 2000s. I could introduce them now in detail, to begin this guide to their music, but it’d be best if you heard them first.

The National is a melancholic rock band consisting of two brothers, two brothers, and Matt Berninger. They formed when Matt (vocalist) and Scott (bassist) moved to Brooklyn after a decade of playing Pavement-like music in Ohio, whereafter they grouped up with Scott’s brother – Bryan Devendorf (drummer) – as well as twins Aaron and Bryce Dessner (both guitarists and pianists) to form the band for whom this guide exists. In 2001 the group released their self-titled debut, but it is inessential to this list, being the weakest in their discography by miles. Instead, let’s start with “High Violet,” the album which the aforelinked song is from.

“High Violet” marks the middle of The National’s discography, as well as the point in which their style shifted. Three years prior (2007), they were entrenched in the ongoing NY scene, embracing the garage rock renaissance and giving it their own spin. But by 2010, the scene had passed, their peers with it. Seeing them wave off from behind the train windows, the band knew they couldn’t stay static. Thus, a new style of production: one which focuses on symphonic elements, on strings and horns, and on very esoteric synths. In “Bloodbuzz Ohio” you hear the roots of this sound, how it interlocks with the traditional rock elements, to bloom into something new—now, let’s see how it’s grown.

“I Am Easy to Find,” released in 2019, is the most bombastic album in The National’s discography, and it’s the first album I’d recommend if you were at all interested in the production of Bloodbuzz (if not, see the second paragraph down). Truthfully, I’d recommend the entirety of “High Violet” as a first album, if only so you know for sure what aspects of the band fit your taste before moving forward. But if the song above confirmed that their production is the highlight, definitely check out IAETF. It’s a little contentious among fans, especially older ones, but it’s without doubt in my top 5. 

From there, you have the option of either going back in time to the intervening albums, “Trouble Will Find Me” and “Sleep Well Beast”, or moving forward to the very recent “First Two Pages of Frankenstein” and “Laugh Track.” The former path chapters the group’s journey towards the sound which you just heard, while the latter sees them restrain it, and hone in on its subtle qualities. I’ll link a song from each, to help you decide.

For those who preferred the more traditional aspects of “Bloodbuzz Ohio”—the piano, the drumwork, the lyrics—y’all have the privilege of moving back in time to the most beloved album in The National’s discography, as well as those which precede it.

Considering it as a stretch of albums (for if you like one, then you’ll like ‘em all), you would in chronological order be listening to: “Sad Songs for Dirty Lovers,” “Alligator,” and “Boxer.” Sad Songs is the most colloquial, being a compilation of alt-country type sing-alongs to make drinking alone less depressing; “Alligator” is the garage rock footing-finder, which shows the group at their most emotionally and instrumentally unstable; lastly, “Boxer” is their breakout opus, possibly the most self-reflective and refined record to come out of the entire New York scene. Among fans of The National, it is generally the favorite.

So, starting from “High Violet” you will have either gone forward in the band’s discography, towards their current output, or backwards. Whether or not you continue from there will depend, of course, on how well you liked the music … but come on, you liked it. How could you not? Sure, it’s usually overcast in its mood, and their style does maintain a similar outline even if the colors used are different, but that’s exactly their appeal: if you’re the kind of person who can relate in any capacity to Matt’s lyrics, then his exploration in them (as in, his exploration of depression) only deepens their relatability. The National’s longevity as a band, in comparison to their peers, is due almost entirely to the bottomlessness of their subject matter.

Proceeding from where you left off, you have the obvious task of listening to the rest of the albums in the band’s discography. Then, there’s the incredible “Cherry Tree” EP, as well as the various singles that decorate their later career output. Then there’s the task of seeing them on tour, because they are amazing live, even today. Thennnnn you can listen to their individual works, including Aaron Dessner’s songs with Taylor Swift, which have led many people on Twitter to call him their Pee Paw. It’s a lot, but be glad that it’s a lot. Not many bands can make music for this long and still be masters of it.

And that concludes the guide to The National—your dad’s favorite band. That last part is kinda meant as a joke—based on the stigma that the band makes midlife crisis music—but it is also, in a way, a source of comfort for me. At twenty-four, I’ve already been through so much with their music—legitimately the worst points in my life (“Baby We’ll Be Fine” is playing as I type this)—and so the idea that these albums help people well into their thirties or forties, in addition to the band themselves as they enter their fifties, is tremendously reassuring. I needed them this past year, and they were there for me.

Ultimately, I hope that this list will find someone a band who reassures them as much as they do me. For those of us who seek comfort in music, few bands can fulfill that role better than The National.

Note: This article was written between April-May, 2024, for RadioUTD, a college radio station / music blog which I was apart of for my last year at UTD. The editor at the time had disappeared (as in, they stopped editing articles lol), so this and the article I’ll post after this went unpublished. The new editor, Olivia Foster, very graciously edited this once the Fall semester started, but due to my having graduated + the general weirdness of the situation, they weren’t able to publish it on the Radio website. A little sad, but I get it. You can find the rest of my articles here: https://radioutd.com/blog/author/matthewrain/