The hungry, weary, love-lorn masses are having a bit of a moment this week in light of The National’s much-anticipated new release, Trouble Will Find Me. To be sure, trouble will find us all, but as long as there are subdued, misty tracks that–though pained–are peacefully so, there is balm for the soul.
The Brooklyn-based quintet was probably positioning itself for these sorts of lofty accolades with its all-star cadre of guest performers, which includes St. Vincent, Sharon Van Etten, Sufjan, and Arcade Fire’s Richard Reed Parry. Thankfully, the ambitious production does not disappoint, because that’d be kind of embarrassing. Indeed, Trouble is rife with the soft gray origami of its own delicate articulations, delivering more of the strong lyrics that fans have come to expect in a context that’s at once drowsy and rendered in sharp relief.
As a gentle ballad that practically begs for group vocals, “I Should Live in Salt” is a telling introduction to this paradigm. The pining and recently slighted will find the crux of their musical solace in “Heavenfaced” and “Pink Rabbits,” which win the vote for “Songs Most Likely to Get You Where It Hurts.” In the latter, lead singer Matt Beringer confesses that he “was soaking [his] head to unravel [his] brain,” which just about sums up the entire album. At the risk of drawing a trite comparison, Trouble Will Find Me is a lot like a clarifying walk in the rain: brooding, retrospective, yet aspirational all at the same time.
The confessional tone of the album finds its apex in songs like “Demons” and “Slipped,” both of which just so happen to showcase Beringer’s soothing baritone–the vocal equivalent of a benzodiazepine–and the familiar themes of insecurity, vulnerability, and finding one’s confidence. Of course, it’s not all shoe-gazing and weeping violins. There’s definitely a dancey edge to a lot of the songs that’s responsible for the occasional Joy Division comparison (exemplified best in “Sea of Love” and “Graceless”). I’m not sure how often The National is compared to Arcade Fire, but “Don’t Swallow The Cap” seems very distinctly influenced by the latter’s trademark cadence and violins (Richard? Is that you?).
All in all, this is an album you’ll probably listen to on repeat as you trudge through your week, especially if it’s trudging that you’re doing. If you had to ask, the plaintive “Fireproof” was the only track that personally elicited a “meh” response. The rest of Trouble is a polished, seamless, oeuvre of restraint that knows exactly what your aching joints need.
Review by Steph Koyfman
