The National

Every once in awhile, a music critic or a record store clerk will reference an album as a grower. This means that while the record isn't immediately accessible or instantly gratifying, it bears fruitful rewards with each repeated listen. Astonishingly, the Brooklyn post-Americana quintet the National has a consistent back catalogue of growers, and their newest, Boxer, is another fine addition.

This year's follow-up to 2005's undeniable masterpiece Alligator is a subtle and elegant rock album unconcerned with trends or special effects. Singer Matt Berninger's soulful baritone uncannily recalls Johnny Cash, Leonard Cohen, and Ian Curtis, an affecting and impressive list of reference points. But it's the echoed instrumentation of the backing band—not coincidentally, two sets of brothers—that gives the album an organic and piquant wholeness.

During the heartening "Apartment Story," Bryan Devendorf's stuttering drumming pushes the band forth despite Berninger's lament that he's "getting tired and forgetting why." In the elegiac "Slow Show," Berninger testifies "you know I dreamed about you for 29 years," and his sorrowful voice conveys a heartbreaking sincerity. These may be characters he's created in the basement of his brain, but like a trained method actor, the crooner inhabits them for an impassioned three minutes.

Those familiar with the National's four albums (in so many years) will notice that their newest release features a newfound and unsettling composure. While the angstier Alligator had the bite of anxious tension, Boxer represents a band at peace with inner torment. Nonetheless, this record's subtle hooks dig in just as deep.

—Arye Dworken
05.18.07

The National don't do anything radically different on Boxer, but then again, they don't really need to: their literate, quietly anthemic take on indie rock seemed to have arrived fully formed on their 2001 self-titled debut. Boxer just hones in even more precisely and intimately on the heartfelt territory the band covers, with punchy-yet-polished production and orchestration by the Clogs' Padma Newsome giving these songs an intimacy and widescreen expansiveness that rivals the Arcade Fire. The album's first four songs are among the National's finest work yet: "Fake Empire" begins as a dead-of-night ballad that echoes Leonard Cohen, then peppy brass and guitars turn it into something joyous. The brooding "Mistaken for Strangers" touches on the side of the band that could be mistaken for a more hopeful Joy Division, if lyrics like "You wouldn't want an angel watching over you?/Surprise surprise, they wouldn't want to watch" can be counted as hopeful. "Brainy," a borderline obsessive love song, shows off the remarkable, dark chocolate richness of Matt Berninger's vocals and how well they complement the band's occasionally bookish lyrics, while "Squalor Victoria" makes the most of Newsome's lavish string arrangements. The rest of Boxer is subtler, but no less accomplished, with each song supporting the other as a classic album should. "Apartment Story"'s hypnotic chug and "Slow Show"'s witty, knowing affection make them standouts, while the graceful, regretful "Ada" plays more like a short story than a song. As focused as it is ambitious, Boxer is riveting. ~ Heather Phares, All Music Guide