The National – The First Two Pages of Frankenstein review

There’s a well-worn phrased often used in Britain once fear and doubt have set in on a person’s countenance; often said by mothers and those who maintain a professional disregard for the debacle which is twenty first century existence, the consoling utterance is usually a variation on “Cheer up, it might never happen.”

Matt Berninger is the sort of person who probably attracts strangers offering that or other similar platitudes. If so it hasn’t worked, as over the last decade or so both he and The National have become increasingly careworn whilst their music has retreated further within itself. Part of the reason for the four year gap between The First Two Pages of Frankenstein and it’s predecessor I Am Easy To Find was a sustained period of writers block permeated by feelings of self doubt: many of the songs here deal with a broken down relationship and it’s web of difficult consequences.

The background problem though is that it hasn’t happened. For all the grown up articulation of post-split dynamics – dividing possessions, guilt, the ache of residual emotion – in real life Berninger is as domestically happy as the next guy. This might read like a trivial point, but all the best heartbreak songs coming from having a broken heart, and whilst tracks like Eucalyptus and New Order t-Shirt are effective enough journal entries, it’s left to Taylor Swift duet The Alcott to provide the peak moment of substance. The First Two Pages of Frankenstein finds The National as phlegmatic as ever, but it’s rummage sale observations are worse for being somebody else’s sadness.

You can read the full review here.