It's September, school's starting, it's getting a bit colder, and the time couldn't be more perfect for a new National album. A chilly, layered sound is a trademark of The National, and it certainly doesn't stop in "Sleep Well Beast." At seven albums, the Ohio-turned-Brooklyn band doesn't have much else to prove, but they are just as effortful as ever. The 12 tracks throughout are eclectic, accessible, at times gorgeous songs that implement electronics and layers as if they were just another one of the instruments.
In 2010, The National became ambitious. After releasing their breakout hit, their chef d'oeuvre "Boxer," the band seemed to double down with "High Violet," a grandiose, multi-faceted project. It didn't necessarily fail. In fact, it's one of their most consistent, critically loved albums to-date, and many people still rank it as one of the best albums of the 2010s so far. However, it can be seen as a bit of a misstep for the band, reaching farther than one can grasp, especially when it comes to a band who is best at proficient, understated, technically-sound rock music.
After the understated, presumably misunderstood masterpiece that was "Trouble Will Find Me" in 2013, the band is back again, almost to take another shot with a more grandiose sound. This result is certainly a more polished, a more sure-handed project. After the opener, an anticipatory, world-building "Nobody Else Will Be There," the album shoots off with "Day I Die," equipped with a shrieking guitar riff, acrobatic drums, and a minimalist — albeit catch — vocal melody. The National is back, baby. It's an appropriate start. More or less, the album has an inspirational, resounding, conclusive feel to it, making each track cut and dried for the closing credit soundtrack of an Indie movie. (My bet is the new Noah Baumbach movie, "The Meyerowitz Stories.")
Along with the sound, the narrative is tight, as well, in "Sleep Well Beast." The subject? New York City, of course. After chronicling the concrete jungle throughout their career, The National is now highlighting the state of transition that the city is now going through. "New York is older/And changing its skin again/It dies every ten years/And then it begins again," Berninger sings in "Born To Beg." The National has always, musically and lyrically, provided frameworks in which the audience can draw from. It's not ambiguous; it's conceptual. And here, we see New York in the state of transition, but it's also the same time that America, as a country, is in a state of transition. And this album assures us that the country is not dying, just going through growing pains.
The radio single — or what remains of the radio single — "This System Only Dreams In Total Darkness" could get stale on paper, but it's energy and dynamism bolster it to standout-caliber. The song structure, the performance, the guitar solo, everything comes together to just make a solid track. But the album really makes its peaks and its slowest and most reserved. "Empire Line" has this touching electronic arpeggio in the chorus that simultaneously throws one off guard while also drawing one in tenfold. Then, there's "Dark Side Of The Gym" which seems aptly titled as it sounds like the song one would slow dance to at a high school dance, optimally, you guessed it, at the dark side of a gym. It's a slow burner at first, but once the bridge kicks in, so do the goosebumps.
The album is a beefy fifty-seven minutes, but some editing could certainly have been done. "Turtleneck" is such a recalcitrant, whiny exception that really has no place in the track list. On the flip side, "Carin At The Liquor Store" is so ruminative and in its own head that it seems long even for its brief three-minute run time. But these rough patches move away rather quickly because of the meticulous track listing. The lows are brief, even if the highs never transcend to anything great. Rating:
