The National at The Orpheum, September 28, 2010

It is not often that I am without my trusted camera at a show, but such has been life the past few weeks and here I was front row center at the Orpheum to catch my first National show, and with a crummy i-Phone camera to capture the moment. Go figure. Anyways, a packed house and a charged up band are the ingredients to a great show, and The National did not disappoint. The show started off to chants of “we love Brooklyn” (the band’s spawning grounds) soon followed by a lone female voice shouting “we love you here in Madison too”. Rightfully so. Darlings of the indie scene, the band has been around for more than a decade and has some great albums to their name including this year’s High Violet, 2007’s Boxer, and 2005’s Alligator. The set list for the show included a bunch of songs from these albums including some of my favorites – Bloodbuzz Ohio, Squalor Victoria, Secret Meeting, Afraid of Everyone, Conversation 16… the list goes on.

Lead singer Matt Berninger was a treat to watch from up close with his deep, powerful and perfectly balanced baritone voice at odds with the visual of a body that seemed tormented as he paced the stage, rocked back and forth on his heels, hands outstretched at times flailing, flapping and slapping the air.. microphone.. hips.. head, twitching, squinting (was it the glare of the lights or the fog that enveloped the stage) but never losing momentum. Shades of horns, keys plucked gently drifting through the smoky haze on a stage cast in shadows and light with purple and white lights (or was it violet?).. brothers Aaron (guitar, bass and piano) and Bryce Dessner (guitar) rocked the stage up front with Matt while brothers Scott (bass and guitar) and Bryan Devendorf (drums) kept it tight in the back along with the trumpet and trombone players. This was probably one of the best sounding shows at The Orpheum for me. I guess front row center kinda guarantees great sound. Now if they just lowered the stage a bit so I could walk out of Orpheum smiling (without the accompanying crick in the neck:)