When I discovered the National’s Sad Songs for Dirty Lovers (2003), nobody could have imagined what an institution this Brooklyn-by-way-of-Cincinnati band would become. That was two years after their largely unheralded self-titled debut, two years before the transformational Alligator (2005), and just prior to Boxer (2007), which really put them on the map.
I happened to be living in the Queen City at the time, but that had no bearing on my affinity for their stirring compositions that could break out into raucous intensity at any given moment. It was a nice coincidence that a city so near and dear to my heart was also where my favorite band originated, something I have since worn as a badge of honor.
It turns out that thousands of others have felt something deeply personal when it comes to their fandom, which makes the National‘s steady rise seem obvious in hindsight but still just as unlikely. The National have a loyal fanbase that rivals any working act today. Yet this is from a band described as sleepy and sad, the latter of which has been embraced with their “Sad Dads” slogan, which fans now proudly wear on hoodies at shows.
That is not to mention their six-hour MoMA performance of “Sorrow” in 2013, which proved there is no limit to their melancholy. The National recently shared how, thanks to their recent collaboration, Taylor Swift fans have found their way to the band’s shows only to walk away “bewildered”, which doesn’t come as a real surprise (but is objectively funny).
As their stature has grown, the National have earned a reputation as an impressive live act, much of which is centered around lead singer Matt Berninger’s theatrics. Imagine a 6’3″ bespectacled man, usually in a suit, slugging wine and singing (or potentially talking/screaming) into the mic while impulsively thrusting himself into the audience with an ever-extending cord to touch and be touched by those around him. Berninger even has a handler to pull him back if he gets too far or needs untangled. While the lead singer ties himself in a knot, the four bandmates play it straight, even if they might succumb to amusement from time to time.
However, this isn’t Morrisey’s backing band either; Aaron Dessner (guitar, piano, keyboards), Bryce Dessner (guitar, piano, keyboards), Scott Devendorf (bass), and Bryan Devendorf (drums) flex musical talents that demand the proper attention despite the spectacle. Nothing beats the mirror image of the Dessner twins wielding dueling axes at center stage, with the Devendorfs keeping perfect time behind. Not even an unruffled Berninger can take away from such moments.
With that backdrop, one can imagine fans’ excitement when the National announced their definitive live document, Rome. The National have released live recordings before, including the aforementioned marathon show packaged as A Lot of Sorrow (2015) and Boxer (Live in Brussels) (2018), but this is the first release to reflect the full live experience, which has been offered as a double LP and CD. Rome features 21 tracks from their show on 3 June 2024 at Cavea of the Auditorium Parco della Musica Ennio Morricone.
Overall, the live album works, and one can hear the set was rip-roaring. However, there is always a disconnect between listening to a band live versus seeing them in person, and that divide is even more pronounced with the National. There are just so many nuances that can only be gleaned in person, like Berninger embracing the crowd (something that is audibly awkward but visually captivating), not to mention the grandeur of the set production. Rome becomes a necessary addition to the National’s catalog but will be of most value to those who have seen the group in concert.
The National choosing to release Rome as a one-night show and not highlights from their international tour is a double-edged sword. On the one hand, this record (nearly) documents the entire concert, offering a taste of what listeners might experience when seeing them live. The other side is that only certain songs are included on the setlist, which can make for a riveting experience in the case of “Humiliation” transitioning into “Murder Me Rachael”. However, surprise additions, like concert opener “Runaway” as well as “Lemonworld”, “Lit Up”, and “The Geese of Beverly Road”, all of which are solid renditions, took the place of more regularly featured numbers.
For whatever reason, five songs are left off of the release, a choice that undercuts the single-show concept. Maybe some tracks weren’t up to snuff, the recording quality was off, or the concert needed to be trimmed down for a more manageable release. On this night, including most of the surrounding shows, “Space Invader” closes out the set before the encore.
Notably, “Day I Die” and “Conversation 16” were also omitted, the latter of which can be a rousing number due to the refrain alone (“I was afraid, I’d eat your brains / ‘Cause I’m evil”). The only rationale is that Rome already includes six cuts from High Violet (2010), meaning over half of that album was already featured. That comes as a big surprise when the band only included one track from arguably their biggest hit, Boxer, even if seminal albums like Trouble Will Find Me (2013) and Alligator were well represented.
The above nitpicking is precisely why many established bands—specifically those not on nugs.net—opt to feature highlights from a handful of shows, serving as an approximation of a concert as opposed to the actual artifact. Rome provides fair representation of many of their hits. That includes “Fake Empire”, which takes on grand proportions live. Similarly, “England”, adorned with regal horns, steadily builds until the climactic moment where Berninger screams, “Afraid of the house, ’cause they’re desperate to entertain.”
Fan favorite “I Need My Girl” gives the crowd a chance to clap and sing along, while “Bloodbuzz Ohio”, “The System Only Dreams in Total Darkness”, and “Graceless” all hit just right. Somewhat surprising is the decision to forego songs from I Am Easy to Find (2019), which means no “Rylan” or “Light Years,” both of which make regular appearances in their act and can be as moving as anything in the group’s repertoire.
As with each of their shows, the record is intended to span their long tenure and reveal something new with each song. Many of their tracks take on a new life in concert, as can be witnessed in real-time on some of their more recent works. On “Eucalyptus”, Berninger gives a little laugh when he delivers the line “What the undeveloped camera? / Maybe we should bury these”. He also sounds conversational when he sings, “You should take it, ’cause I’m not gonna take it.” It’s nuances like these that become repeated over time until they become customary.
“Tropic Morning News” closes with one of the best jams of the night, as the final minute showcases the Dessners wailing on their guitars over Bryan Devendorf’s pummeling drums. There’s no doubt that moments like these will soon become part of the National’s concert-going experience, providing some new material to banter about on message boards.
The band’s playing is on point throughout the entirety. Berninger embraces his role as the show’s focal point. Take “Smoke Detector”, where he realizes a fan is holding a birthday sign and incorporates “Happy birthday / Happy birthday / All we need to do is say happy birthday” into the lyrics. It’s Bryan Devendorf’s drumming, however, that remains the core of what they do. His tom-tom style rolls their music forward in waves, with an intensity that sets the moment as opposed to matching it. In addition, Aaron Dessner has a more vocal presence.
Take songs like “Lemonworld” and “Fake Empire”, where he echoes Berninger throughout the verse. Dessner’s thin vocals complement Berninger’s rich baritone, perhaps reminding listeners of a band like Constantines, where Steve Lambke provided a much-needed yin to Bryan Webb’s yang. It seems unlikely that Berninger would yield the mic to another band member in the studio, but they would be wise to employ more prominent backing vocals elsewhere, as it certainly resonates here.
While the National make adjustments to their setlist every night, they have a cadence to close out shows and a particular order of tracks that often include “Mr. November”,” “Terrible Love,” and “Vanderlyle Crybaby Geeks”. “Mr. November” naturally serves as a galvanizing crowd-pleaser, and the song sounds even more anthemic live (if that’s possible). For years, “Terrible Love” has been their bring-down-the-house finale, much the twist compared to the muted opener on High Violet. The second chorus, “It takes an ocean not to break,” becomes the cathartic pinnacle of the band’s performance.
Then “Vanderlyle Crybaby Geeks” makes for the perfect outro, as the crowd fills in for Berninger, who takes on the role of director. The vocalist was near his breaking point on “Terrible Love,” and it can’t be part of the act that he always sounds this hoarse by this point of the show. “Vanderlyle Crybaby Geeks” has arguably become the unifying number in The National universe; hearing fans belt it out serves as a good reminder to put it on repeat the next time you’re in need of a good cry.
Rome finds the National at the height of their powers and showcases just how much synergy they have onstage. They have reached a point in their career where the crowd will hang on Berninger’s every word and are thrilled with his live embellishments, many of which have become as recognizable as the studio versions. The musicians each play a pivotal part in the production, as the most devoted fans know just when the Dessners will take turns on keys and how a saxophone or brass instrument will complement a particular song.
All of that notwithstanding, Rome captures much of the feeling of their live show, with some unexpected flourishes that will be valued most by those who can visualize what’s transpired. Rome proves to be a strikingly good example of a great National show, even if nothing quite compares to the real thing.