The National on pulling back from the brink: “It’s felt fragile before, but this time was different”
You can read ‘Eucalyptus’, the recent knotty single from The National’s upcoming ninth album, in many ways. The most literal interpretation is clear: the awkward, bleak separation of mementos from a failed relationship, as frontman Matt Berninger asks who’ll take ownership of the Cowboy Junkies and Afghan Whigs records from their vinyl. “What about the undeveloped camera? Maybe we should bury these”, he suggests in his signature booming purr.
But the turmoil around ‘First Two Pages Of Frankenstein’s creation can’t help but seep into the pores of ‘Eucalyptus’. Following two decades on the road together, a COVID-enforced separation, and a creative block for Berninger, the Cincinnati five-piece were not just in a rut, but preparing for the possibility that their time was up. When he sings about not being trusted to look after the aforementioned possessions because “I’m only going to break it”, it’s not hard to imagine he’s talking about them, his brothers, who were teetering on the edge.
“I think our relationships had become largely focused on the work on the music, but we’d lost track of each other,” guitarist and multi-instrumentalist Bryce Dessner tells NME from his home in southern France. “We’ve said that things felt fragile before, but I think this time was different. I think it was quite real and I think that it was actually necessary. We needed to let it go and accept the possibility that it would end.”
As with all relationships, there’s never one big bust-up, but the build-up of slights and moments that can irrevocably alter a relationship overnight. His twin, Aaron Dessner, always believed there was a way back together, even if by the end of the tour for 2019’s ‘I Am Easy To Find’, they had hit all the “rock’n’roll clichés” of 20 years on the road.
“There’s a weird thing about The National; it’s just an evergreen, creative organism that just won’t die,” he tells NME on a separate Zoom from a hotel room in Tampa, hours before he heads on stage with collaborator Taylor Swift on her ‘Eras’ Tour. “Eventually no matter how far away we go from it, there’s the centre of gravity that pulls you back.”
‘First Two Pages Of Frankenstein’ is what emerged from the rubble. It’s the most National-sounding album they’ve released in almost a decade, following the experimental ‘Sleep Well Beast’ (2017) and collaboration-heavy ‘I Am Easy To Find’. The band – made up of Berninger, the Dessner twins and brothers Scott and Bryan Devendorf – have found renewed mainstream success over the pandemic when Aaron co-produced Swift’s lockdown albums ‘Folklore’ and ‘Evermore’ in 2020, and has worked extensively on Ed Sheeran’s upcoming album, ‘Subtract’. They’d previously been lumbered with the “biggest cult band on the planet” tag following the critically acclaimed indie-rock classics ‘Boxer’ (2007) and ‘High Violet’ (2010), but now the band’s ecosystem and community is bigger than it’s ever been, and deservedly so.
‘First Two Pages…’ is a wonderfully sensitive, touching record that veers between intimate piano ballads (‘Once Upon A Poolside’) and musings on doom-scrolling and epic guitar solos (‘Tropic Morning News’). Both Dessners liken it to ‘Boxer’ and ‘Trouble Will Find Me’, with Aaron considering it one where they returned to each other on a personal level for guidance and security.
Amidst lockdowns, the band initially found it hard to get into a rhythm with recording and writing. Berninger, meanwhile, was in a creative block, unable to find inspiration in a time so overwhelming that the slight, intimate human experiences – where his writing thieves – couldn’t be as closely observed. Picking up Mary Shelley’s 1818 novel Frankenstein off the bookshelf helped break the streak, but his struggles seeped into the band’s way of working.
“He found he was writing about things that aren’t all that important anymore,” Bryce says, and the previous ways of working needed to be amended. “Matt was not doing well and was blocked, but I think at a certain point we also started to question, ‘Well, maybe there’s no room for him here. Maybe these songs are too confident’”.
When the band got together, they were more direct with Berninger, and had him go into a vocal booth and improvise more in the studio, something they hadn’t done before. Aaron was convinced that the “kernels of song ideas – little fragments of lyrics or melodies – were already stronger in my opinion than a lot of what we had done in the past”. The granular “Lego-building” approach was new to the band.
When they hit the road in 2022, songs started to flow; the band say the record had many different iterations, and that 25 songs were finished from the sessions. Selecting the songs that made it would often prove tricky for Aaron and Matt, traditionally where they’d butt heads the most. The reconnection between the group made that process easy for once: “I was so proud and relieved by Matt’s conviction on the 11 songs we went for,” Aaron says.
It’s not unusual for fans of a band of this size and emotional intensity to feel a level of ownership and what they want to see reflected in the music. It’s something the Dessners are acutely aware of. “Our fans debate, a lot of like ‘why does it sound like this? Or why is this kind of song? Why that kind of song here? Why not this?’ And the truth is like this is exactly what we wanted to make. And there’s a lot of intention in it.”
He points to Bryan’s programmed drumming on recent records which fans have questioned, even if that’s how he’s written since the band’s early days. “This record to me – and to all of us – feels like the culmination of everything we’ve learned. Aesthetically, we are really proud of where it sits,” Bryce says on this record. “We sound more like ourselves maybe than we did in recent times”.
Swift features on ‘The Alcott’, a back-and-forth conversation between Berninger and the pop icon, a subtle duet that feels anything but shoehorned in for clout or additional streams. The National and Swift met over a decade ago backstage at Saturday Night Live and have kept an open dialogue ever since. When Aaron sent the song to Swift, she responded within half an hour, restricting the song into its present form. “She has this work ethic and wonder at the creative process – she’s just so she loves making stuff. And she’s not cynical in any way, she’s as DIY as anyone.”
Speaking of The Eras tour, where he performed ‘mad woman’ with Swift: “It’s just kind of… the greatest show I’ve ever seen,” he laughs. “Like it’s just insane. The scale of the tour. And the music, the visual design, the choreography and her musicianship, it’s on a level that I’ve never seen anything like. To me, it’s something to aspire to: to be that ambitious with her music. I think sometimes people ask me questions about working with pop stars like it’s not an honour, but it’s a total honour. I learned way more from her than she’s learned with us.”
Swift is not alone to join the record; Phoebe Bridgers lends subtle backing vocals to two tracks, as does Sufjan Stevens on ‘Once Upon A Poolside’. It’s this ecosystem, and the personal relationships between the band that keep them invigorated and keen even in the face of inner-band turmoil: “I don’t think the band would have gotten this far without friends,” Aaron says.
“It’s the strange thing to be in an intimate, platonic relationship with five people and then a giant community around that,” he adds. “There can be times where everyone in the band can pull in different directions and then other times they can be leaning into each other and this is definitely the record of us leaning into each other.”
The National’s ‘First Two Pages of Frankenstein’ is release April 28 via 4AD
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Thomas Smith
NME