The National

The Virginia EP (Beggars Banquet)

By John S.W. MacDonald
Published: May 23rd, 2008 | 7:00am

Sometime after the release of the National’s 2005 LP, Alligator (Beggars Banquet), the Brooklyn quintet became a band people wanted to film. After a near-perfect record, the National were suddenly worthy of a behind-the-scenes look into their next album, a lesson in reality television to be endured by every successful musician. Filmmaker Vincent Moon wandered around New York’s subways and the band’s Connecticut studio to produce A Skin, A Night – the document of the National’s torturous recording sessions for 2007’s Boxer.

Moon’s is a slight film – pretty, but ridden with clichéd images of moody rock stars and moodier subway riders. Thankfully, it comes packaged with an EP full of b-sides, demos, and live-recordings. Though with 12 tracks, calling The Virginia an “EP” is a stretch. In fact, only by excising the handful of unenlightening demos that clog its middle section does Virginia stand up to the National’s brilliant albums.

Without those demos, we’d have a proper eight-song EP. And it’s in these remaining tracks that the band shines. Vocalist Matt Berninger continues his bitter professor shtick; he still sounds like he’s singing into his drink. But paired with his band’s seething, sepia-toned rock, it remains deeply effective. “…Your heart’s full of liquor [and] me and everybody are just ice in a glass.” Berninger accuses on “You’ve Done it Again, Virginia.” While on “Blank Slant” Berninger mumbles his self-deprecating wit – “I’m nowhere that I thought I’d be by now / My head is a buzzing three-star hotel” – over Bryan Devendorf’s molten time-keeping and the Dessner brothers’ elegant arpeggios.

The four live recordings that close out Virginia are predictably fantastic. “Lucky You,” from 2003’s Sad Songs for Dirty Lovers (Brassland), reveals all the cruel beauty hidden in the album version. And live favorite “About Today” adds a blinding cascade of over-heated guitars to the understated original. There’s even a decent cover of Springsteen’s “Mansion on the Hill” buoyed by Padma Newsome’s Gaelic-inflected fiddle.

The National are master composers of middle-class dread. And despite its tedious middle, Virginia continues this tradition with frightening competency. The new songs – much like their predecessors – require a few spins to take hold. But no worries… just pour yourself a drink and take a seat.

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