Matt Berninger and “The National” bandmates win over Barclays Center last night. (Jon Hyde)
Just a few years back, it would have been hard to imagine a band as introverted and melancholy as The National turning pop-star tricks and selling out huge arenas. But its popularity has grown to such a level that it can no longer be contained by grubby bars filled with mopey indie fans, and last night at Barclays Center, this unlikely situation was addressed quickly by Matt Berninger.
“We’ve played about 35 venues around New York in the last 13 or 14 years,” he deadpanned early on. “But this was always our favorite. It’s good to be back where it all started.”
He clearly came prepared with some damn good banter, but that was nothing compared to the sonic power that his band was packing. From the very first moments, the Brooklynites gave notice of their intention to rock hard and loud, and even their longtime followers (of which they have many) seemed to recoil slightly at the ferocity of their performance.
The wonderfully discordant wash of guitar noise enveloping “Afraid of Everyone,” for example, would have been worthy of Sonic Youth in their prime, while each of the scattershot beats provided by drummer Bryan Devendorf through “Bloodbuzz Ohio” felt like a stream of tiny but thrilling explosions.
Perhaps just as remarkable, however, was the band’s ability to retain a crucial sense of intimacy in one of the least intimate environments imaginable.
Key to that was, as ever, Berninger’s comforting monotone vocals that rooted the band no matter how loud they got.
The set list was also paced masterfully, with moments of delicacy dropped in at almost the exactly right times.
A newly blond Annie Clark (a k a St. Vincent) bounced onto the stage mid-set to provide a subtle guest vocal on “This is the Last Time,” while Berninger managed to leave the room breathless by singing the aching “I Need My Girl” — a standout from the new album “Trouble Will Find Me,” about missing his wife while on tour and providing proof that The National can still have the genteel touch that made them so special in the first place.
But for all his lyrical self-doubt, Berninger has become a fantastically entertaining frontman.
When not marauding around the stage and egging his band on, he was throwing his microphone with nonchalance, and as the band encored with a striding “Mr. November,” he turned on his inner Bono by climbing down into a sea of adoring hands.
He’s not the kind of guy you can imagine developing a God complex or taking his kids to school in a helicopter, but when it matters, Berninger has more than enough star material.
It’s been a long time coming, but these introverts have truly come out of their shell and it’s an incredibly stirring sight.