There seems to be an urge among musicians to make each new record its own statement. Your record will only be considered great if it’s a complete left turn in your sound. There needs to be elements of risk, of change, of evolution. You can’t look back, the future is calling, and who are you if you don’t answer it?
This is why it feels almost refreshing to see a group like The National continuously resist this urge. Now on their seventh record, Sleep Well Beast, each release up until now has felt like a slow and steady refinement of what they do best: the deceptively cutting lyricism of singer Matt Berninger, the engrossing arrangements of guitarists Aaron and Bryce Dessner, and the propulsive rhythm section of bassist and drummer Scott and Bryan Devendorf.
Elsewhere, there’s plenty of vintage National moments. “Nobody Else Will Be There” has one of Berninger’s most tender vocal performances. “Guilty Party” combines Kid A style electronics with the haunting grandeur of the band circa 2007’s Boxer. “The System Only Dreams in Total Darkness” combines razor-sharp guitar work (and a guitar solo, something The National doesn’t do that often) with an urgent rhythm section, recalling the forward motion of past highlights such as “Bloodbuzz Ohio” or Trouble Will Find Me standout, “Graceless.”
There’s always been anger bristling beneath some of The National’s sound, but it’s never been quite as apparent as it is on Sleep Well Beast. The aggressive, bluesy “Turtleneck” propels itself forward with Berninger’s indictment of current United States politics, calling out “a man in shitty suits” that captures the nations attention and adoration. “This must be the genius we’ve been waiting years for,” he sings, and you can just feel him rolling his eyes.
The National have always been political, so it shouldn’t be a surprise that they’re not afraid to express this. They played shows in support of both Barack Obama and Hillary Clinton, and even made t-shirts in support of Obama’s 2008 run. There’s no hiding the troubling feelings anymore as far as they’re concerned, and they’re not afraid to bare it all for people to see. “Turtleneck” is the hardest they’ve rocked in a long time, but it seems necessary at this point.
“Day I Die” also clips along at a rocking pace, with Bryan Devendorf’s almost drum ‘n’ bass-style drum patterns adding a sense of impatience over Berninger’s repeated proclamations of “the day I die / the day I die / where will we be?” Later, he goes on to say “let’s just get high enough to see our problems,” sounding like someone who can’t answer the questions he poses throughout the entire song.
This is a restless record, one that can’t stay in one place for too long. The band seems more aggressive, angrier, but there’s also a sense of melancholy. That’s always been the paradox about this group, they’re one of a small handful of groups that can be called agitated, beautiful, angry, and life-affirming in the same breath. It’s a sound they’ve finetuned for almost two decades, and one that will likely continue to get better.
