REVIEW: The National – First Two Pages of Frankenstein

As they release their ninth LP, The National are in a slightly strange and contradictory stage of their career. Talk to some long-term fans and you might feel, for potentially the first time, a bit of a cooling towards the band – not that any of these fans are writing off the classic albums, but some are shrugging their shoulders at the thought of new music. Saying they’re not sure whether they’ll listen or not. At the same time, though, the ascendancy of The National continues. The collaborations they attract are now from the top tier of music (popularity), the venues they sell out are bigger than ever, and album sales on release absolutely dwarf those of the earlier work.

Personally, I’ve always said that as long as The National are still making good songs then I’ll be listening. And on The First Two Pages of Frankenstein, there is only one occasion when they don’t live up to that challenge. The Taylor Swift featuring ‘The Alcott’ mixes The National’s maudlin nature with Taylor’s sixteen spoonfuls of saccharine and the result is a predictable and boring dirge and possibly the first ever the National song that I actively dislike. But other than that, the band are on top form here. The two Phoebe Bridgers featuring songs fare much better, fitting in with the mood and style of the album in a way that ‘The Alcott’ simply doesn’t.

‘This Isn’t Helping’ is pretty standard for the Ohio band, reminiscent of High Violet’s ‘Sorrow’ at times, but the addition of backing vocals from Bridgers elevates it and reminds us why The National started to invite collaborators in more regularly. Similarly, ‘Your Mind Is Not Your Friend’ makes fantastic use of Bridgers while still maintaining the feel and tone of the album as a whole. It’s also the song that most seems to represent Matt Berninger’s state of mind during the writing of the album, as he writes one of the rawest and most open analyses of his mental health so far – there is no joking about ‘tylenol and beer’ on this one.

It’s not all totally downbeat, though. In fact, the album’s standout song hums with upbeat nostalgia on top of a gorgeous, lilting instrumental build. ‘New Order T-Shirt’ remembers a lover ‘in my New Order T-Shirt/holding a cat and a glass of beer’ and is one of the band’s most positive love songs to date, even if there are hints to a relationship that did eventually sour. And while there’s a darkness and an admittance of difficulty in the lyrics of ‘Tropic Morning News’, it ends with a note of optimism that also bristles through the gradually increasing layers of guitar and percussion.

Other songs grow on you in the way the best The National songs have always done, with ‘The Alien’ going from a seeming bit off filler on first listen to a contender for the best track when you’ve played it five or six times. It has the closest thing to an earworm chorus on the record. In the tradition of Matt Berninger songs which imagine his long term and very happy relationship coming to an end, ‘Eucalyptus’ lists the many things that he wouldn’t argue about if the couple had to split their belongings at the end of a divorce. It’s some of the best lyrical work here, as Matt does what he does best – representing angst and anxiety that so many of us are familiar with by making the mundane meaningful. ‘Grease In Your Hair’ doesn’t stand out but does fill the ‘England’ shaped song hole from the past few albums. And ‘Ice Machines’ and closer ‘Send For Me’ are both beautiful, contemplative ballads that will meet the needs of fans who do spend time with them.

One thing that does stand out here is how, after two albums in which The National experimented with electronic sounds and brought back the occasional Berninger scream, this is their most gentle and least experimental album in several years. In some ways, it is closer to Berninger’s recent solo album than either Sleep Well Beast or I Am Easy To Find. That should be a positive for those who complained about the changes they made on those albums, but I can understand why some fans feel that the lack of progression means they may as well listen to the earlier albums that they already know they love. I don’t feel that way. And I think that others would be missing out if they stuck to that philosophy. The First Two Pages of Frankenstein might be their least daring and inventive album of the last decade or so, but it might also be their most consistently good one in that time as well. These are great songs, beautifully executed, with all the standard features that make this band so well loved – 22 years after their debut was released, do we need to ask for more than that?

Words by Fran Slater