For the first half of September, I’ll be selecting my Top 15 favorite songs from The National. A band that has rarely let me down — both in the recording studio and in concert. #FaveArtistTop15
On the tour to promote High Violet, I caught The National at New York City’s Terminal 5, a relatively intimate setting that they would outgrow almost overnight. The band was real as always. They didn’t just play their songs, they shared the stories behind them. Aaron or Bryce (I still can’t tell them apart) mentioned one song, in particular, that gave them fits. His guilty admission was that the time signature was overly complex. It was hard for the band to stay in sync, to find their groove. That song was “Lemonworld”, and that night they played it nearly flawlessly.
One of the most distinct aspects of The National has always been the lyrics. No one else in rock & roll strings words together like Matt Berninger. It’s not far fetched to say that the band’s songs can be easily identified. just by reading the words without any music. This is the case with “Lemonworld”. Every syllable sung or hummed embodies the band’s storytelling approach on a bed of industrial guitar strums, tumbling tom rolls and high hat accents.
“Lay me on the table, put flowers in my mouth, and we can say that we invented a summer lovin' torture party.”