Report: The National at Radio City Music Hall

Feeling fucked-up inside rarely sounds so good: the firm of Berninger, Dessner, Dessner, Devendorf & Devendorf, abetted by St. Vincent and Sufjan Stevens, are propelled to a prestigious sold-out event in NYC on June 18. Greatness looms - or maybe it's already here.

By Zachary Herrmann

There's a saying in the acting business that when you are playing bored, it's not enough to just look bored. You have to really sell the emotion. You must learn to appear actively bored.

This apparent contradiction is at the heart of what The National are all about, especially as live performers. The chief emotion isn't boredom though; it's misery.  And boy, do these guys ever know how to sell that.

Armed with a string and horn section, famous friends and a whole lot of A-game, The National stormed Radio City Music Hall, only letting up for a ballad ("Runaway", "Daughters of the Soho Riots") here and there. It was the picture of a band in its moment - all the rave reviews and profile pieces for High Violet, the band's bombastic masterpiece, seem to have propelled the band to this one sold-out night at Radio City Music Hall.

If The National didn't seem cowed by the vastness of the venue, they were certainly appreciative of the adoring reception from their adoptive home. Lead singer Matt Berninger expressed thanks time and time again. Saying it is one thing, but swimming through the crowd to belt out "Abel" from, well, the top of my seat... that's really showing it.

To be sure, the crowd interaction is a thoroughly calculated move: Berninger's done it regularly on tour, and came out later in the night to scale the sides and mezzanine of the venue, trailing the world's longest mic cord. Clearly, the routine must have been blocked out to some extent, pre-show. Populist stunt or not, the theatrics work and felt genuine. For a band that splits the difference between mannered (see strings and horns) and unhinged (see Berninger, and the Dessner brothers' guitars), it's about the primal and instinctual winning out. Berninger, as s singer and songwriter, is something like one of J.G. Ballard's protagonists. He's an everyman through a glass darkly, violence seething under his monotone, occasionally bursting through to the surface. It's a constant battle going on between civility and chaos in the music - it's the balancing dynamic that makes The National such an interesting case.

Fun doesn't really seem like the appropriate adjective, but somehow, all the rage and sorrow connects. Just ask the guy near the front row who was fist-pumping during "Fake Empires".

 "We wanted to play you something from when Matt was single and tortured," Aaron Dessner quipped, as he introduced "Available", one of the band's "bitter" songs.

"It's a little dark," Berninger conceded before launching into one of the band's ragers (to be contrasted with everything else, the brooders). His admission, of course, was made all the more facetious by the following "cannibalism" song ("I was afraid/ I'd eat your brains"/ "Because I'm evil" in "Conversation 16"). Berninger's damn civilized on stage - showered and black-blazered - up until the point he breaks loose.

And it all works brilliantly for the live show.  If I could levy any serious criticism against The National, it's in the still waters of Side B of The Boxer. Sometimes, in all that depression and misery, things get a little too civilized and stagnant.

Those moments occurred here and there (however beautiful, "Runaway" gets tired live), but the electricity was palpable nearly everywhere else. You could hear it in Bryan Devendorf's thundering drums, or in the guitar riff slashing through the center of "Afraid of Everyone".

Annie Clark (St. Vincent) and Sufjan Stevens made a brief appearance to repeat their contributions to High Violet, creating a trifecta of Brooklyn rock royalty. Their presence and relative power broke the trance briefly, providing a few more laughs and smiles amidst The National's sort of overbearing presence.

Things are just looking too good for these guys to feel bad, even if the music is, more often than not, absolutely dour. It's in that spirit that "Mr. November", the story of a has-been, has now become more of a celebration. "Bloodbuzz, Ohio" and "Apartment Story" felt like Bruce Springsteen anthems, crowd singing along to the latter, repeating the refrain: "Stay inside until somebody finds us/ Do whatever the TV tells us".

It's music that feels downright American, a mix between the wide-open, wide-eyed Midwest and self-pitying, self-proscribing East Coast, delivered in Berninger's honest voice. Feeling fucked up inside rarely sounds so good.

Set list:

Mistaken for Strangers

Anyone's Ghost

Bloodbuzz, Ohio

Brainy

Secret Meeting

Slow Show

Squalor Victoria

Vanderlyle Crybaby Geeks (w/ Annie Clark on vocals, piano)

Afraid of Everyone (w/ Annie Clark and Sufjan Stevens on vocals)

Little Faith

Available

Conversation 16

Apartment Story

Abel

Daughters of the Soho Riots

England

Fake Empire

-- encore break --

Runaway

Lemon World

Mr. November

Terrible Love