The National Live At The Marquee | Review

The National Live At The Marquee, Cork, 14th July 2014

Lights. Camera. Action. It has been just over a year since The National last performed a set in Cork’s Marquee. In the meantime they have brought their latest tour all over the world on, what is by all accounts, a fairly long and rigorous touring schedule. However, the show must go on. And on it goes.

With the lights down and a large screen displaying a semi-pixelated live stream of the band just beyond the eye-line of the audience, the anticipation is palpable. With as little fuss as they could reasonably allow the band take to the stage and ease their way into their opening track, Don’t Swallow The Cap.

Hardly to be the only track played off their latest release, the set list is an exciting blend of old and new. An audience for The National on any given night is unlikely to be an audience standing idle for 90% of the set only to come alive for classics like Mr. November and Bloodbuzz Ohio, and it feels as though every lyric of every song is coming to life off the stage, as well as on it.

However, throughout the first half hour or so something feels amiss; something difficult to pinpoint. This anomaly later becomes clear at the end of Afraid of Everyone, off of 2010’s ‘High Violet’ album. As he kicks it up a gear for the final coda of “Your voice has stolen my soul, soul, soul”, lead singer Matt Berninger howls the final line, slams the microphone down and exits stage left.

After a too-long-for-comfort period of absence, he re-emerges in time to pick up the opening lines of Squalor Victoria. Phew! The lead singer does not seem to be on form. He often seems distracted, uneasy and semi-despondent. Several instances of forgotten lyrics or introducing Pink Rabbits at the wrong time are largely forgiveable errors that happen from time to time.

However, he seems unable to create that mystical spark and connection that makes a live performance so special. Aimlessly wandering around stage in between verses was very distracting and more importantly, disengaging.

At times the band seem aware of the situation and do well to keep the momentum going with confident guitar displays and by prompting audience participation; not that they need any prompting. Fortunately as Pink Rabbits came to an end a spark reignites in Berninger’s belly. The final stretch of seven songs brought on a very real passion that was noticeably absent during other points in the show.

For a band that don’t have the traditional anthemic stadium sound (think U2, or Springsteen), they are well able to bring the house down with their own particular brand of energy. An audience and a frontman often share this almost ineffable energy. It’s intangible, yet unmistakable. It’s difficult not to pick up on the frontman’s depleted energy supply on this particular evening, perhaps due to relentless touring.

However, the encore brings out the band at their finest. There is energy; there is raw emotion; there is engagement. Concluding with an unplugged acoustic rendition of Vanderlyle Crybaby Geeks, they send the audience home the way every audience should go home: chanting an entire song with the lead singer acting as conductor.

A good show, but not a special show.