90.

The National
Alligator
(Beggars Banquet, 2005)

The National. Could there be a more solid band? The group seems to be the perfect mixture rhythm, melody and lyric, with every member playing their part to perfection. On Alligator that perfection was at its most darndestly transcendent. Musky, brooding, enlightened, tragic, desperate and oh so gorgeous, Alligator is the work of a mature band doing what it does best better than ever before. A couple years ago while in Chicago I discovered that The National (via the equally wonderful Boxer) is the perfect music for eating after midnight at an Irish pub. A great coda to a weekend at the Pitchfork Music Festival.

-Thistle

The National - Boxer

The National
Boxer
(2007, Beggars Banquet)
9.0/10

A lot of people call The National’s albums “growers,” but I think that is a bit misleading. The truth about The National is that the first time you listen to them the songs come off as deep as the fifth time you listen to similar artists (Arcade Fire, I’m looking at you). The National are that good. And from your first listen forward they only get better and better. It is really hard to identify what makes the seemingly standard indie rock The National produce heads and shoulders above their contemporaries. On my first time through Boxer I thought I had it; The National’s drummer, Bryan Devendorf, is definitely the most inventive, technically proficient drummer on the indie rock market. On the second listen I was corrected, the subtle dual guitar interplay and piano on Boxer was the culprit for success. The third listen marked another change, identifying Matt Berniger’s syrupy relaxed vocals as the winning factor. After about 5 or so changes of opinion, I was back to step one – the drumming. I could cycle through each members talent endlessly. Truth is everything here is perfect. There is no unnecessary note. Every member hits their mark flawlessly. The album is baked in a slow-burning perfection that I have rarely heard throughout a full album. Further more, The National share a descriptive title usually reserved by legends like David Bowie and Tom Waits: class. There is a certain level of undaunted, confident-but-not-cocky class that pervades the album. The only reason I have hesitantly given the album a nine is that by some unimaginable course, 2005’s Alligator was even better. Boxer still has room to grow though. Let’s just say – ‘at least a 9.0.’

-Mr. Thistle

The National - Brainy