I wasn’t going to review this album. When The National released First Two Pages of Frankenstein six months ago, my analysis claimed that ‘as long as they are releasing good songs I’ll be listening’ and that ‘after 22 years of releasing music, we don’t need to ask any more than that.’ I enjoyed that LP – but anyone who read my review will have noted a feeling that it wasn’t a rival to any of their earlier work and didn’t really herald a particularly exciting future for the band. Part of me felt that they might need to take a hiatus and consider their next move. So, when Laugh Track was casually announced during their recent Homecoming gigs, I was happy to hear we would be getting another The National album – but my expectations were low. I convinced myself to stick to what I’d said just a few months previously – that I’d be listening as long as the songs were good.
So, I did what I always do when one of my favourite acts releases an album. I put my headphones on and went out for a walk, pressing play as soon as I stepped out of the door. By the time I got to the absolutely wonderful ‘Weird Goodbyes’ I noticed that I was getting entirely lost in the music I was hearing, that Laugh Track was having an effect on me that The National hasn’t really had since Trouble Will Find Me or some of the best tracks from Sleep Well Beast. This wasn’t me enjoying The National because they’re The National – but because, on the evidence of those first three tracks, they may have released a truly first-class album again.
‘Turn Off The House’ clinched that feeling. A combination of the signature Dessner guitar lines and the live drumming of Bryan Devendorf (which was largely missing from Frankenstein) makes this track one of the most instantly captivating things they have released in a long time, with Matt Berninger’s trademark skill of looking at depression through a strange and interesting lens adding the most convincing lyrics of the album into the mix. By the end of this track, it is now clear that the latter part of this album would have to be really bad for Laugh Track not to be considered a huge step up from its predecessor.
Happily, that dip never comes. Not every song is on the same level as ‘Weird Goodbyes’ and ‘Turn Off The House’ – but some of them are – and even those that aren’t are bringing back elements of The National that make them such a unique and emotional band. The bridge in ‘Dreaming’, for example – or the long, heavily layered outro on ‘Space Invader’, which is reminiscent of live classics such as ‘About Today.’ These are signature sounds of a much-loved band, and it’s a pleasure to hear them back in their music.
As well as bringing back these staples, though, the band have also kept and perfected some of their more recent traits. ‘Laugh Track’ continues the trend of bringing in a guest artist (Phoebe Bridgers) and the music is more closely aligned with the songs on Frankenstein and the Berninger solo album – but the song just feels on another level to the previous ones. The verses are gorgeous, the chorus sticks in your head for days. And both ‘Hornets’ and ‘Crumble’ offer a contrast like that of ‘Pink Rabbits’ on Trouble Will Find Me or ‘Vanderlyle’ on High Violet. People could be forgiven for thinking they were a one note band on the last LP, but these two album highlights remind us of their light and shade.
And the album ends with perhaps the biggest departure of all. ‘Smoke Detector’ is almost eight minutes of claustrophobic instrumentation, powerful percussion, and a kind of spoken word, stream of consciousness delivery from Berninger – it’s the closest to wild and unwieldy they’ve been since ‘Turtleneck’ but it’s a million times better than that song. And after an album that shows huge improvement from the last one, this final song also leaves you with a feeling that the future of this band might not be as predictable as it was beginning to seem. If this hints at what’s to follow, we could be approaching a new era. Who knows?
For some balance, I’ll finish by saying that this album is still not going to convince anyone who doesn’t already like The National (we may be beyond that by now, but who cares?). I am also not saying that this album quite makes it back to the quality of Alligator, Boxer, and High Violet – but for a band who had been seeming to stagnate, this sudden release, this huge step forward, is a reminder that this is a band capable of surprising and enthralling us and that they’ll probably be doing that for years to come.
Words by Fran Slater
Picky Bastards 