Over 20 years into their career, the National have achieved a belated dominance in the indie rock scene. With their eight past albums — their ninth, First Two Pages of Frankenstein, arrives April 29 on 4AD — the Cincinnati musicians are freshly popular with younger Millennials and Gen Z, which may be at least partly attributable to the songs' meticulously crafted but hopeless soundscapes, as well as multi-instrumentalist Aaron Dessner's work as a producer and co-writer with Taylor Swift and Ed Sheeran.
In the time since 2001's self-titled debut, the National have earned admiration and collaboration from some of the biggest stars in the world, inspired their own equally morose offshoots, and recently scored a movie musical with 2021's Cyrano.
The modus operandi of Taylor Swift's favourite band is in heart-of-the-matter lyricism bathed in dark and melancholy, literate rock. Lead singer Matt Berninger spins tales of deterioration — in friendships, relationships, communities, self-worth — with the emotional specificity of a dagger to the lungs.
Their music has remained remarkably popular well into the band members' middle age, particularly for songs that so often stare unblinkingly into some form of a personal abyss.
To mark the arrival of First Two Pages of Frankenstein, we're looking back at the top 20 songs from the number one dads of despair.
20. "Terrible Love"
High Violet (2010)
This High Violet track may very well be the band's Rosetta Stone — the one you can show a friend so they can understand the band's whole deal. Some kind of terrible love is the essence of all the band's stories, but its steady, richly detailed buildup to its edge-of-catharsis climax is what makes it a great song first and foremost.
Nicholas Sokic
19. "Start a War"
Boxer (2007)
An excellent case study for the National's proficiency in quiet, contemplative gloom. The threat of things to come implied in the title is belied by the low rumble of Bryan Devendorf's drumming and the gentle, plucked strings. There is little menace in the narrator's warnings — a proclamation masquerading as a weary resignation.
Nicholas Sokic
18. "Dark Side of the Gym"
Sleep Well Beast (2017)
This is the perfect encapsulation of the nostalgia-threaded nap-core type of song that has maybe convinced some people that the National are a bit of a snooze. I, for one, love sleep! Stealing its title from a Leonard Cohen lyric, the schmaltzy shuffle of "Dark Side of the Gym" really peaks in the bridge with an illustrative Berninger bar about dreaming of anonymous castrati even though no castrato went unrecognized. Does it just make no sense, or is it actually profound? It sounds beautiful regardless.
Megan LaPierre
17. "Pink Rabbits"
Trouble Will Find Me (2013)
"Pink Rabbits" seemingly documents the reconciliation of a once-broken relationship, with Matt Berninger embodying "a television version of a person with a broken heart." The rich piano chords perfectly capture the feeling that brought these characters back together, conveying a warm, cozy familiarity rather than passionate intensity. It's almost enough to make a pink rabbit — a cocktail made of tequila, milk and strawberry Nesquik — seem palatable. Almost.
Alex Hudson
16. "Apartment Story"
Boxer (2007)
Perhaps vagueness can lend itself no better to any prescription of experience than our tentative early steps into the grey matter of real adulthood. "Apartment Story" fittingly feels like a slice of buzzing respite; of rosy-minded fuzz to live inside of and find shelter from the elements. From the achingly pristine imagery of a line like "Hold ourselves together with our arms around the stereo" to the immensely satisfying consonance of "We're so disarming, darling," the insistent percussion urges time forward through the confusion of figuring it all out.
Megan LaPierre
15. "Hairpin Turns"
I Am Easy to Find (2019)
"Hairpin Turns" doesn't so much take a hairpin turn as deftly swoop into a new direction, with the minimal electronic syncopation of the verses giving way to a stately piano drop. An account of an unhappy relationship, conveyed with burning houses and "arguing about the same things," is brought to life with a perfectly chosen architectural metaphor about brutalism. The song's mixture of cold electronics and warmly organic instruments finds the tenderness in a bleak situation, illustrating why Dessner has since become a go-to producer for enormous pop stars.
Alex Hudson
14. "The System Only Dreams in Total Darkness"
Sleep Well Beast (2017)
We do indeed live in a society, and the lead single from Sleep Well Beast is compelling cyberpunk commentary on "the system." A barbed wire guitar riff slices through the arrangement, initially sounding jarring but eventually blending in smoothly during a transcendent chorus, as Berninger's voice jumps up at octave for the refrain: "I can't explain it any other way." The National are masters at making vague lyrics sound profound, and "The System Only Dreams in Total Darkness" conveys political disillusionment without needing to say all that much. I can't explain it any other way.
Alex Hudson
13. "Humiliation"
Trouble Will Find Me (2013)
Trouble Will Find Me is inarguably an album about death. Berninger has said this track in particular is about the embarrassing potential legacy of a what-if scenario involving him getting blown up by a drone missile at a dinner party, or something. (And, fair — you could never live that down.) Not that it matters: the slow-burning, sweeping magic of "Humiliation" is the space that it conjures with a propulsive expansiveness that sounds very L.A. — where all the women the Doors womanized in the '70s now "Fall asleep while swimming / I got paid to fish 'em out, then one day I lost the job."
Megan LaPierre
12. "Karen"
Alligator (2005)
Matt Berninger brings surprising edginess to this otherwise perky folk pop ditty that plays against type in various ways. The song's resonant major chords and toe-tapping rhythm are sunnier and more carefree than most of the National's famously morose catalogue. It's almost possible to ignore the sketchy lyrics about a controlling, manipulative boyfriend — that is until Berninger's narrator undercuts the mood with a strikingly randy claim: "It's a common fetish for a doting man / To ballerina on the coffee table, cock in hand." Leave it to the sonorous-voiced Berninger to make the word "cock" sound highbrow.
Alex Hudson
11. "About Today"
Cherry Tree (2004)
"About Today" is the National's minimalistic anthem, the centrepiece of their Cherry Tree EP. A twinkling guitar and moderate drum loop are paired with Berninger's tiptoeing around what seems like the inevitable crumbling of a relationship. With only 87 words, audiences know all they need to know. The sturdy build almost lulls listeners into complacence. Then Padma Newsome's violin kicks in, deepening the heartbreak. Live, it ends with an explosion of sound and feeling, which might be taken for release. The studio version, however, ends with a tender ellipsis, its narrative unfinished.
Nicholas Sokic
10. "Don't Swallow the Cap"
Trouble Will Find Me (2013)
Berninger is at his most oblique here, with a narrator who simply can't seem to identify or cope with his incomprehensible emotions. It's loopy lyrics ("I have only two emotions / Careful fear and dead devotion / I can't get the balance right") end with a couple of grim, layered jokes about rock star canon and the wisdom within. The dynamic, energetic backbeat — it's almost krautrock — and swirling violin echo the soaring and searing emotional confusion, making for what might be the quintessential banger from the National.
Nicholas Sokic
9. "Conversation 16"
High Violet (2010)
Talk about a bait and switch: what begins as pretty standard National fare — the taut Bryan Devendorf drumming and barely-subverted opening cliché; the gently foreboding background vocals and the pretty idea of living on coffee and flowers — devolves into something more sinister, as reedy woodwinds lead the way for Berninger's starkly darkened intrusive thoughts to begin to sink their teeth in. Building from "You'd never believe the shitty thoughts I think" to a Phil Collins-esque punctuation of "I was afraid, I'd eat your brains / 'Cause I'm evil," insidious thought patterns bleed into the compressed, shimmering heatwave of synths without skirting a Sylvia Plath reference. Everything means everything.
Megan LaPierre
8. "Mistaken for Strangers"
Boxer (2007)
This infectiously upbeat, Joy Division-esque Boxer cut hides — surprise! — a corrugated interior. Anchored once again by Devendorf, the most underrated part of the National's arsenal, it tackles a familiar theme for the band: the difficult, graceless transition into adulthood. Specifically, the friendships that burn out or are otherwise sacrificed in order to stand out among the brown-nosers. "Mistaken for Strangers" is college rock that grew up under the empty light of a Citibank.
Nicholas Sokic
7. "You Had Your Soul With You"
I Am Easy to Find (2019)
The lead single from I Am Easy to Find blew a new door open for the National in their 20th year together. Opening with a distortion-drenched, vividly colourful morse code glitch before that familiar, larger-than-life beat crashes in puts the tangible sense of brightness Aaron Dessner brings behind the boards front and centre. You also find it more subtly in the way the orchestral strings are layered into the mix, not fully emerging until Berninger finds communion, finally not alone in emptying himself out on the asphalt, as he sings the eerily mirrored words (co-written by his wife Carin Besser) with Bowie collaborator Gail Ann Dorsey.
Megan LaPierre
6. "Vanderlyle Crybaby Geeks"
High Violet (2010)
"All the very best of us / String ourselves up for love" is surely one of the most poignant, yearning mantras in a career that's full of them. "Vanderlyle Crybaby Geeks" is a portrait of bittersweet independence, and even if sometimes feels like word salad — Matt Berninger apparently came up with the name "Vanderlyle" from thin air — the swaying refrain speaks volumes. The National typically end their shows with an acoustic singalong version of this song, and it's a perfect concert moment that feels at once poignant and triumphant.
Alex Hudson
5. "Graceless"
Trouble Will Find Me (2013)
Confronting science and faith in equal measure, "Graceless" shows that a Berninger lyric can be less opaque if there's a straightforward, relatable premise. Case in point: the deceptively simple, swiftly flippant "God loves everybody, don't remind me," that he sings on the chorus. The trick is that everything is allowed to be replete with double-meanings, like a mixed metaphor about glass and "the side effects that save us." With this concept in his hands, a jittery four-on-the-floor rhythm anchoring the arrangement, and atmospheric textures that stretch off into the distance, Berninger is able to uncork in a way that we hadn't before seen. Well, not since…
Megan LaPierre
4. "Mr. November"
Alligator (2005)
While this song was inspired by John Kerry and the pressures put on blue-blooded white men running in presidential elections, everyone knows a Mr. November: someone who was once beloved, admired and praised for what everyone presumed would be a bright future. Now, though, that imagined future is no more than poisonous nostalgia for what could have been but never really was. The song's subject could not match up to his burdens, but he still deigns to tell anyone who will listen, "I used to be carried in the arms of cheerleaders."
Nicholas Sokic
3. "Fake Empire"
Boxer (2007)
Here is a distillation of everything great in a typical song from the National. This Boxer highlight is driven by a prominent C major piano riff, a sophisticated simplicity that explodes into a brass ensemble finale. Listeners could choose to read its lyrics as an allusion to America's declining status as a world superpower, but the fake empire is also personal. Berninger's vocals here, with blues reminiscent of Leonard Cohen, are strikingly empathetic. He's familiar with how easy it is to disillusion oneself and give in to apathy. Why not pretend life is all just diamond slippers, gay ballets and bluebirds? For many, that's a much more alluring option.
Nicholas Sokic
2. "Light Years"
I Am Easy to Find (2019)
Aaron Dessner wrote the initial sketch for "Light Years" while his mother-in-law was dying of cancer, when his family relocated to Denmark to be close to her. At the house the Dessners were staying in, there was an old piano — and he channeled his grief into an absolutely devastating series of chords and embellishments. Matt Berninger conveys the gravity of the moment with a series of evocative snapshots. He chronicles a moment in the sun before a car journey, and an evening spent shrouded by darkness in a park, communicating a palpable sense of loss without imposing any specifics on the listener. As atmospheric textures drone sweetly in the background, "Light Years" is as comforting as it is heartbreaking. Dessner later turned this kind of piano pathos into platinum pop, bringing similar sounds to Taylor Swift songs like "cardigan" and "seven."
Alex Hudson
1. "Bloodbuzz Ohio"
High Violet (2010)
It's just like the National and their sense of interiority to somehow slot the highlight of their whole catalogue smack-dab in the middle of their fifth album. Even in the context of that album (or any, for that matter), it feels like a jarringly grand and resplendent thing to have descend upon you at track six — but the more I think about it, the more fitting it becomes. This is the exact type of bombastically percussive festival singalong that the band have carved out as a singular niche for themselves in indie rock, with the building tension of strings and horns and Berninger's unhurried, sun-bleached baritone lending it an even greater stateliness. Despite not being a "lyric band," this is another key differentiator: in addition to the brilliant "I still owe money / To the money / To the money I owe," the exquisite made-up titular concept — which Berninger has described as being about the strange effect of returning home to visit family, akin to the buzz from alcohol — sticks the landing in profundity. Not that it wouldn't be a thought-provoking, invigorating or life-affirming anthem without it.
Megan LaPierre
In the time since 2001's self-titled debut, the National have earned admiration and collaboration from some of the biggest stars in the world, inspired their own equally morose offshoots, and recently scored a movie musical with 2021's Cyrano.
The modus operandi of Taylor Swift's favourite band is in heart-of-the-matter lyricism bathed in dark and melancholy, literate rock. Lead singer Matt Berninger spins tales of deterioration — in friendships, relationships, communities, self-worth — with the emotional specificity of a dagger to the lungs.
Their music has remained remarkably popular well into the band members' middle age, particularly for songs that so often stare unblinkingly into some form of a personal abyss.
To mark the arrival of First Two Pages of Frankenstein, we're looking back at the top 20 songs from the number one dads of despair.
20. "Terrible Love"
High Violet (2010)
This High Violet track may very well be the band's Rosetta Stone — the one you can show a friend so they can understand the band's whole deal. Some kind of terrible love is the essence of all the band's stories, but its steady, richly detailed buildup to its edge-of-catharsis climax is what makes it a great song first and foremost.
Nicholas Sokic
19. "Start a War"
Boxer (2007)
An excellent case study for the National's proficiency in quiet, contemplative gloom. The threat of things to come implied in the title is belied by the low rumble of Bryan Devendorf's drumming and the gentle, plucked strings. There is little menace in the narrator's warnings — a proclamation masquerading as a weary resignation.
Nicholas Sokic
18. "Dark Side of the Gym"
Sleep Well Beast (2017)
This is the perfect encapsulation of the nostalgia-threaded nap-core type of song that has maybe convinced some people that the National are a bit of a snooze. I, for one, love sleep! Stealing its title from a Leonard Cohen lyric, the schmaltzy shuffle of "Dark Side of the Gym" really peaks in the bridge with an illustrative Berninger bar about dreaming of anonymous castrati even though no castrato went unrecognized. Does it just make no sense, or is it actually profound? It sounds beautiful regardless.
Megan LaPierre
17. "Pink Rabbits"
Trouble Will Find Me (2013)
"Pink Rabbits" seemingly documents the reconciliation of a once-broken relationship, with Matt Berninger embodying "a television version of a person with a broken heart." The rich piano chords perfectly capture the feeling that brought these characters back together, conveying a warm, cozy familiarity rather than passionate intensity. It's almost enough to make a pink rabbit — a cocktail made of tequila, milk and strawberry Nesquik — seem palatable. Almost.
Alex Hudson
16. "Apartment Story"
Boxer (2007)
Perhaps vagueness can lend itself no better to any prescription of experience than our tentative early steps into the grey matter of real adulthood. "Apartment Story" fittingly feels like a slice of buzzing respite; of rosy-minded fuzz to live inside of and find shelter from the elements. From the achingly pristine imagery of a line like "Hold ourselves together with our arms around the stereo" to the immensely satisfying consonance of "We're so disarming, darling," the insistent percussion urges time forward through the confusion of figuring it all out.
Megan LaPierre
15. "Hairpin Turns"
I Am Easy to Find (2019)
"Hairpin Turns" doesn't so much take a hairpin turn as deftly swoop into a new direction, with the minimal electronic syncopation of the verses giving way to a stately piano drop. An account of an unhappy relationship, conveyed with burning houses and "arguing about the same things," is brought to life with a perfectly chosen architectural metaphor about brutalism. The song's mixture of cold electronics and warmly organic instruments finds the tenderness in a bleak situation, illustrating why Dessner has since become a go-to producer for enormous pop stars.
Alex Hudson
14. "The System Only Dreams in Total Darkness"
Sleep Well Beast (2017)
We do indeed live in a society, and the lead single from Sleep Well Beast is compelling cyberpunk commentary on "the system." A barbed wire guitar riff slices through the arrangement, initially sounding jarring but eventually blending in smoothly during a transcendent chorus, as Berninger's voice jumps up at octave for the refrain: "I can't explain it any other way." The National are masters at making vague lyrics sound profound, and "The System Only Dreams in Total Darkness" conveys political disillusionment without needing to say all that much. I can't explain it any other way.
Alex Hudson
13. "Humiliation"
Trouble Will Find Me (2013)
Trouble Will Find Me is inarguably an album about death. Berninger has said this track in particular is about the embarrassing potential legacy of a what-if scenario involving him getting blown up by a drone missile at a dinner party, or something. (And, fair — you could never live that down.) Not that it matters: the slow-burning, sweeping magic of "Humiliation" is the space that it conjures with a propulsive expansiveness that sounds very L.A. — where all the women the Doors womanized in the '70s now "Fall asleep while swimming / I got paid to fish 'em out, then one day I lost the job."
Megan LaPierre
12. "Karen"
Alligator (2005)
Matt Berninger brings surprising edginess to this otherwise perky folk pop ditty that plays against type in various ways. The song's resonant major chords and toe-tapping rhythm are sunnier and more carefree than most of the National's famously morose catalogue. It's almost possible to ignore the sketchy lyrics about a controlling, manipulative boyfriend — that is until Berninger's narrator undercuts the mood with a strikingly randy claim: "It's a common fetish for a doting man / To ballerina on the coffee table, cock in hand." Leave it to the sonorous-voiced Berninger to make the word "cock" sound highbrow.
Alex Hudson
11. "About Today"
Cherry Tree (2004)
"About Today" is the National's minimalistic anthem, the centrepiece of their Cherry Tree EP. A twinkling guitar and moderate drum loop are paired with Berninger's tiptoeing around what seems like the inevitable crumbling of a relationship. With only 87 words, audiences know all they need to know. The sturdy build almost lulls listeners into complacence. Then Padma Newsome's violin kicks in, deepening the heartbreak. Live, it ends with an explosion of sound and feeling, which might be taken for release. The studio version, however, ends with a tender ellipsis, its narrative unfinished.
Nicholas Sokic
10. "Don't Swallow the Cap"
Trouble Will Find Me (2013)
Berninger is at his most oblique here, with a narrator who simply can't seem to identify or cope with his incomprehensible emotions. It's loopy lyrics ("I have only two emotions / Careful fear and dead devotion / I can't get the balance right") end with a couple of grim, layered jokes about rock star canon and the wisdom within. The dynamic, energetic backbeat — it's almost krautrock — and swirling violin echo the soaring and searing emotional confusion, making for what might be the quintessential banger from the National.
Nicholas Sokic
9. "Conversation 16"
High Violet (2010)
Talk about a bait and switch: what begins as pretty standard National fare — the taut Bryan Devendorf drumming and barely-subverted opening cliché; the gently foreboding background vocals and the pretty idea of living on coffee and flowers — devolves into something more sinister, as reedy woodwinds lead the way for Berninger's starkly darkened intrusive thoughts to begin to sink their teeth in. Building from "You'd never believe the shitty thoughts I think" to a Phil Collins-esque punctuation of "I was afraid, I'd eat your brains / 'Cause I'm evil," insidious thought patterns bleed into the compressed, shimmering heatwave of synths without skirting a Sylvia Plath reference. Everything means everything.
Megan LaPierre
8. "Mistaken for Strangers"
Boxer (2007)
This infectiously upbeat, Joy Division-esque Boxer cut hides — surprise! — a corrugated interior. Anchored once again by Devendorf, the most underrated part of the National's arsenal, it tackles a familiar theme for the band: the difficult, graceless transition into adulthood. Specifically, the friendships that burn out or are otherwise sacrificed in order to stand out among the brown-nosers. "Mistaken for Strangers" is college rock that grew up under the empty light of a Citibank.
Nicholas Sokic
7. "You Had Your Soul With You"
I Am Easy to Find (2019)
The lead single from I Am Easy to Find blew a new door open for the National in their 20th year together. Opening with a distortion-drenched, vividly colourful morse code glitch before that familiar, larger-than-life beat crashes in puts the tangible sense of brightness Aaron Dessner brings behind the boards front and centre. You also find it more subtly in the way the orchestral strings are layered into the mix, not fully emerging until Berninger finds communion, finally not alone in emptying himself out on the asphalt, as he sings the eerily mirrored words (co-written by his wife Carin Besser) with Bowie collaborator Gail Ann Dorsey.
Megan LaPierre
6. "Vanderlyle Crybaby Geeks"
High Violet (2010)
"All the very best of us / String ourselves up for love" is surely one of the most poignant, yearning mantras in a career that's full of them. "Vanderlyle Crybaby Geeks" is a portrait of bittersweet independence, and even if sometimes feels like word salad — Matt Berninger apparently came up with the name "Vanderlyle" from thin air — the swaying refrain speaks volumes. The National typically end their shows with an acoustic singalong version of this song, and it's a perfect concert moment that feels at once poignant and triumphant.
Alex Hudson
5. "Graceless"
Trouble Will Find Me (2013)
Confronting science and faith in equal measure, "Graceless" shows that a Berninger lyric can be less opaque if there's a straightforward, relatable premise. Case in point: the deceptively simple, swiftly flippant "God loves everybody, don't remind me," that he sings on the chorus. The trick is that everything is allowed to be replete with double-meanings, like a mixed metaphor about glass and "the side effects that save us." With this concept in his hands, a jittery four-on-the-floor rhythm anchoring the arrangement, and atmospheric textures that stretch off into the distance, Berninger is able to uncork in a way that we hadn't before seen. Well, not since…
Megan LaPierre
4. "Mr. November"
Alligator (2005)
While this song was inspired by John Kerry and the pressures put on blue-blooded white men running in presidential elections, everyone knows a Mr. November: someone who was once beloved, admired and praised for what everyone presumed would be a bright future. Now, though, that imagined future is no more than poisonous nostalgia for what could have been but never really was. The song's subject could not match up to his burdens, but he still deigns to tell anyone who will listen, "I used to be carried in the arms of cheerleaders."
Nicholas Sokic
3. "Fake Empire"
Boxer (2007)
Here is a distillation of everything great in a typical song from the National. This Boxer highlight is driven by a prominent C major piano riff, a sophisticated simplicity that explodes into a brass ensemble finale. Listeners could choose to read its lyrics as an allusion to America's declining status as a world superpower, but the fake empire is also personal. Berninger's vocals here, with blues reminiscent of Leonard Cohen, are strikingly empathetic. He's familiar with how easy it is to disillusion oneself and give in to apathy. Why not pretend life is all just diamond slippers, gay ballets and bluebirds? For many, that's a much more alluring option.
Nicholas Sokic
2. "Light Years"
I Am Easy to Find (2019)
Aaron Dessner wrote the initial sketch for "Light Years" while his mother-in-law was dying of cancer, when his family relocated to Denmark to be close to her. At the house the Dessners were staying in, there was an old piano — and he channeled his grief into an absolutely devastating series of chords and embellishments. Matt Berninger conveys the gravity of the moment with a series of evocative snapshots. He chronicles a moment in the sun before a car journey, and an evening spent shrouded by darkness in a park, communicating a palpable sense of loss without imposing any specifics on the listener. As atmospheric textures drone sweetly in the background, "Light Years" is as comforting as it is heartbreaking. Dessner later turned this kind of piano pathos into platinum pop, bringing similar sounds to Taylor Swift songs like "cardigan" and "seven."
Alex Hudson
1. "Bloodbuzz Ohio"
High Violet (2010)
It's just like the National and their sense of interiority to somehow slot the highlight of their whole catalogue smack-dab in the middle of their fifth album. Even in the context of that album (or any, for that matter), it feels like a jarringly grand and resplendent thing to have descend upon you at track six — but the more I think about it, the more fitting it becomes. This is the exact type of bombastically percussive festival singalong that the band have carved out as a singular niche for themselves in indie rock, with the building tension of strings and horns and Berninger's unhurried, sun-bleached baritone lending it an even greater stateliness. Despite not being a "lyric band," this is another key differentiator: in addition to the brilliant "I still owe money / To the money / To the money I owe," the exquisite made-up titular concept — which Berninger has described as being about the strange effect of returning home to visit family, akin to the buzz from alcohol — sticks the landing in profundity. Not that it wouldn't be a thought-provoking, invigorating or life-affirming anthem without it.
Megan LaPierre