CD reviews: The National – High Violet

The National were already three albums in before critics’ ears began to prick. Alligator, a dusty, midnight-tinged record of garage rock whittled down into what were almost ballads earned the band a small but dedicated following. The National’s sound, marrying Aaron Berninger’s ringing guitar a la Walkmen or Doves with brother Matt’s world-weary lyricism delivered in his distinctive baritone, was perfected on Boxer, significantly inflating their fanbase and cementing The National as a going concern.

Their fifth LP, High Violet has been released with no little fanfare, label 4AD actually going to some lengths to promote the thing – no small deal in today’s indie record industry. Proof of the label’s big love for the band is in this sumptuous twin-LP vinyl release, printed on deep 180g audiophile-quality wax and enshrouded in the nicest looking sleeve in my record collection.

Immediately, High Violet reveals itself as less embellished than its excellent predecessor, although Australian composer and Clogs member Padma Newsome returns with some judicious orchestration. Creepers like ‘Runaway’ enter as spare rock ballads and leave on gentle waves of cello and brass. Just how textured High Violet actually is might pass you by on the first couple of spins, but sooner or later you’ll find yourself dragged from another room glaring at the stereo.

Other tracks begin more forcefully, with ‘Conversation 14”s freight-train beat reminding just how goddamned hard Bryan Devendorf can bash the skins. The National work best when they consolidate elements at odds with one another – Berninger’s somnambulant voice, discreet choral arrangements, shuffling basslines and POUNDING DRUMS.

Compulsively addictive is ‘England’, which builds on Newsome’s brass and string arrangements to break into something close to majestic (there’s no other word for it) before collapsing again. It’s High Violet’s most obvious candidate for an instant classic, and must already be making its way to mixtapes.
Production on High Violet is the band’s sharpest yet and certainly rewards close listening, with unexpected detail, dashes of bass clarinet, French horn, double bass.

While much of The National’s songwriting is about relationships, they’re less often concerning boy-girl conundrums than with clans, those moments with your crew that seem to stick in your head longer than you thought they would at the time. The album closes on the exquisite ‘Vanderlyle Crybaby Cry’, encouraging listeners to join in melancholy sing-along, before, of course, it ends all too soon. TG

Sound: 4  Music: 4 1/2