A person can gain a lot of insight into a band by how said band choses to begin their concerts. Some musicians explode onstage with a crowd-pleaser, using flashing lights and intense screams from the audience to fuel their egos for the evening ahead. The National made a quiet, no-fuss entrance onto the stage at Orlando's House of Blues this past Wednesday night to Neil Young's "On The Beach," a song with lyrics that speak eloquently to the experiences this band is having right now. After years of earning unobtrusive critical acclaim and a fiercely loyal fan base, their most recent album, High Violet, has suddenly pushed them into widespread popularity. It's as though Young's simple statement, "I need a crowd of people, but I can't face them day to day," says something that even a band known for personal lyrics cannot put into words. [All photos by Andrew Silverstein.]
The heartbeat-like bass drum of High Violet's "Runaway" kicked off the evening, its layered guitars, horns and strings backing vocalist Matt Berninger's honeyed baritone. [Berninger pictured left.] It was a subtle opening choice for a band with a catalogue filled with dramatic punches, accompanied by equally subdued blue lighting that cast an otherworldly glow across the stage.
Throughout the evening, Berninger was every bit the "new Blue Blood" who presents a suave exterior even as his flaws are clearly evident. His stage persona is that of a man on the edge, whether precariously balancing on top of stage monitors or impetuously tossing his mic stand onto the floor. At times, he seems like a child having a tantrum, screaming, clapping, and stomping around while the Dessner twins bemusedly observe. He frequently closes his eyes and clutches the mic, his voice crackling with emotion. In doing so, he reveals a man conflicted. His lyrics and delivery are heart-wrenchingly personal, yet standing in front of a crowd it's clear he's still a little uncomfortable displaying this emotions. He once explained in an interview, "Sometimes, just holding that mic and closing my eyes is the best place to be … when you can forget about the lights, and forget that you're being watched."
This article appears in Oct 7-13, 2010.