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all (stunning) photos from Sunday show: Faith Desired
all words from Monday show: Svetlana

I have SO MANY THINGS TO SAY ABOUT THIS SHOW. So, for ease of comprehension and since Tuesdays that are effectively Mondays are hard enough, lets start at the beginning (which may be tedious but important for emphasis):

I wasn’t really, really, 100% sure I wanted to go to this show at first.
The National, to me, always seemed like one of those bands you put on in the background and then sort of forget about it. The kind of band that men, once they’ve realized that Dave Matthews is shit and they should move on and mature, at least a little, you know – after college, like. Good, non-threatening and decidedly non- (emotionally) challenging, for lack of better word (other bands of this variety, in my mind, include: Band of Horses (Funeral aside), Pela, Everything but the first album of Clap Your Hands Say Yeah etc etc).
Easy listening for youngish, caucasian, vaguely urban, college educated American male.
Nothing wrong with it, but nothing particularly (just) right.
I have the Boxer on my ipod, I try and listen to it, I like the man’s voice but still the favorite thing they ever recorded, to me is their cover of “Pretty in Pink” they did during their Daytrotter session. An already great song sung by someone with a great voice.
Plus, they have not released a new album in 2+ years.
This was bound to be boring, right?
Plus, the show was on Memorial Day Monday.
No one likes to go to shows on Memorial Day Mondays, right?.
You’re tired, you’re sunstroked, you’re tired, you’re dreading Tuesday, you’re tired….
Anyway though, because I am a sport and because you cannot judge a band till you really give them a chance – I went.
To see the National live.
For the first time ever.
Shantell, who shot these awesome photos, went on Sunday and assured me it was all mindblowingly good and then some. Our past live show reviews of them promised the same.
So, I said to myself: sure.

And then-IT SO WAS. MINDBLOWINGLY GOOD.
It was like it was a different band on stage than the band I have on my portable music playing device.
They had 9 people on stage (including a very solid brass section) and every person on there was 115% committed to making you sing and cry and hug everyone and anyone you’re next to.
And this was their 3rd show in DC in 2 days.
Imagine if they were, say, NOT TIRED?

The anchor, inevitably, is the singer, Matt Berninger, a man so heartbroken he can’t even stand up straight. There has been much said about his baritone voice, but live, live that voice is bigger than a house (on top of a house). It is the kind of voice you’d marry a man for. Sight unseen. (see also: M.Ward-ed) It grrrrrrrs and brrrrrrrs and conveys emotion as strongly and subtly as every awkward dance move Matt makes. For a while, he did not even establish eye contact with us. Just him, into his mike, you know-almost timid about this power he has. But then, once he got more loose, more easy in his own joint, he swayed, and (almost) went into the audience for the encore and talked to us in between songs like the old friend we all wanted him to be. (bonus points on that Gary Sinise dedication)

That was another thing-930 club felt awesomely small and intimate on Monday night. Like we were at a lounge show or something, somewhere in a wood panelled lodge in the middle of the middle of Midwest, just listening to this band that you know, which is really good and if mixed adequately with whiskey and sprinkled with tears on top, helps you both remember and forget that you’re a little old, a little sore and a little tired but not quite yet ready to give up (on being loved. and loved hard) . Just like them.

I know that sounds cheesy.
But…
You guys, it was so good.

Everyone in that godamn band was note to note to emotion perfect. Professional and passionate to boot.
Every song was a killer, bringing you as high as a kite (Around the bend) and then crashing you softly down low (Slow Show) and the encore was just as long and as cathartic as an encore should be (and trust me-I don’t like encores anymore than any other person. Usually I just leave.)
I did not want it to end.
No one wanted it to end.

I turned and said: I am so glad we came. And I was told: I kind of forgot just how insanely good they are. THEY ARE SO REALLY GODDAMN GOOD.

If this was the first time I heard the National I would have walked to the merch booth bought some t-shirts, all their records, tried to sneak backstage with a flask tucked in my bra and the rest would have been history. But it wasn’t so for now, I make this promise: I will only go see The National live.
The records, good as they are, background ready as they are, just don’t do them half a service.

Enjoy the photos now.

Related:

• LiveDC: The Jesus Lizard / Noveller @ 9:30 Club (11)
• Live DC: We Were Promised Jetpacks @ Black Cat (0)
• Live DC: Karen (O Yeah!) Yeah Yeahs (6)
• LIVE DC: The Sounds @ 9:30 Club (5)
• PHOTOS: Getting Gay’ed @ RNR 3 Year Anniversary (7)

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