Concert Review: The Antlers/The National D.A.R. Constitution Hall Sunday June 6th

The National have been slowly moving up in the world since their humble Cincinnati days and it is only fitting that as their sound has grown, so have the venues and excited crowds. This wasn't the first time that the band played the prestigious Constitution Hall but as they told the audience, last time they were opening for The Arcade Fire and the auditorium was only half-full. While I would have killed to see that show, The National won't be playing second fiddle to anyone any more, and that whole 'half-full crowd' thing isn't going to be a problem from now on either.

The show was kick started by up-and-comers/NPR darlings, The Antlers, a band whose live performance surprisingly owes more to Sonic Youth than anyone else. Though I've listened to their album Hospice a great deal and quite like it, I'm always a little suspicious of a three-piece band making sounds akin to category 5 hurricanes live, especially when there is only one guitar on stage. The other problem I had with their set was the fact that The Antlers stuck to one unbendable formula throughout - literally every song starts with a whimper, the drums kick in three or four minutes in, building to a moment when you will be awash in sound, followed by three or four false endings and then a final ending that consists of a couple minutes of feedback. Literally. Every. Song. Still, they had wonderful moments of glory and a couple songs that were able to stand out from the rest of the noise. Also, I think their show would have been much more enjoyable if the guy running sound had not been wretched at his job. The bass on the low end drowned out basically everything The Antlers were doing to the point that it was hard to breath in my seat and inducing all the people around me to plug their ears. I'm also willing to accept that perhaps the acoustics were just terrible where I was sitting.

The National came out as a breath of fresh air with the slow burning "Runaway," a track I find the most boring of their entire catalogue, but a song made lovely and immediate in the live setting. But not even The National were immune to early sound problems. Matt Berninger voice, usually deep and overpowering was drowned out by bass and echoes right along with the many wonderful subtleties in their music. A few songs in, while I was becoming more and more reminiscent of the intimacies of the 9:30 Club, Berninger stepped off stage to have a chat with the sound guy (and hopefully punch him in the face). Afterward the vocals were clearer, the intricacies came through and the mood in my neck of the concert hall changed dramatically.

The band ripped though a set that leaned mostly on Alligator and the brand new High Violet (an album I'm still learning to embrace, but am excited to hear again after this great performance) although they did play a couple tracks from Boxer and even one brilliant one from Sad Songs for Dirty Lovers. Standouts included new songs like "Afraid of Everyone," "Conversation 16" and "Lemonworld" as well as "Squalor Victoria," "About Today," and the always perfect, "Fake Empire."

Berninger was at his most charming, joking with the crowd and drinking out of a cup that was probably white wine and probably not water. He even came into the crowd on screamers, "Abel" and "Mr. November," in which he ended up on the upper deck of auditorium ten feet from yours truly. Decked out in a natty suit and 'Most Interesting Man in the World' facial hair, it was impossible not to develop my very own man-crush on Mr. Berninger.

While he did his thing, the band sounded as tight as ever. The five-piece I saw a few years ago have grown into a stage show that often looks more like Broken Social Scene - with violins, keyboards, trumpets and saxophones coming at you from all directions. While this can sometimes result in a little bit of overkill (seriously, unless you're a ska band or Belle and Sebastian, you should put the horn down once in a while), The National still play to their strengths, that being the exceptional disjointed guitar playing of the Dessner twins and the ridiculously perfect drumming of Bryan Devendorf (seriously, he might be the best drummer alive today). The show ended with the fan favorite, tear-jerker, "About Today," a song that builds and releases like a marriage that has hit a breaking-point and is rescued from divorce at the last second by a sincere apology - which also happens to be what the song is about.

It was a fitting end to a show that was trying at best in the beginning, but eventually won the crowd over and then took its heart. I've seen The National four or five times now and while exiting the show last night, began immediately looking forward to the next time.

Album Review: The Antlers - Hospice

Today, Scott Goldstein tells us about an album I have been curious about myself for quite some time. His thoughtful review and beautiful descriptions have convinced me to head to the record store ASAP.

The Antlers released their latest album, Hospice, on June 23, 2009. Hospice weaves a bitter narrative about a Hospice worker and his grief stricken relationship with a terminally-ill bone cancer patient named Sylvia.

Hospice, like For Emma, Forever Ago (Bon Iver), was written by a lone artist secluded from the world. Frontman Peter Silberman moved to New York in 2006, cut off all ties from family and friends, and started recording the album in 2007 that was intended as an elegy for his disappearance. The result, two years later, is Hospice, an intensely sad album that explores tragedy and loss.

Hospice is an elegant record made brilliant because of the way the Antlers have mastered their sounds. The album opens with the instrumental "Prologue," which has piano symphonied with swelling ethereal noise, whose constant repetition recalls life support. "Kettering" takes the listener straight to the death bed of the girl, a place of isolation where our hospice worker is so absorbed caring for his patient that the rest of the world has been muffled into a hollow, eerie murmur.

The beautiful tragedy takes a brief detour in what is one of their best songs on the album, "Bear." In "Bear," Silberman tells the tale of a young couple who decide to have an abortion. Metaphor-filled, Bear describes the remorse they feel, yet the Antlers exploration of regret sounds interestingly original; none of that screaming crap, but rather an eerily beautiful sound that could give nightmares in its calmness. However, Bear does not come across political, rather it provides a thoughtful break from one depressing story, and brings you into another. Like many of the songs on the album, Bear immerses you into its own dreary world and then explodes into its chorus before receding back to the lump-in-throat alternative Universe that is Hospice. This pattern occurs in many of the songs on Hospice, and the little/soft-to-big and back to little refrain brings to mind a flickering candle, or a dying star.

The introductions to the songs in Hospice are a huge reason why the story of the album makes its point. The intros pull you into their dreary world magnificently and originally. "Sylvia" begins with a striking banging of drums evoking being told some terrible news, while "Prologue" captures the repetition of a life support machine.

The true brilliance of Hospice lies in its simplicity, the story feels so right because it is so simple. The Antlers are only three guys; Silberman, drummer Michael Lerner and Darby Cicci, and they bring you into their world without overdoing it. Perhaps this is because most of the album was done without a label. The lyrics, too, are clever and thoughtful, as Silberman comes across looking like a careful wordsmith.

Hospice is so compelling because of the strikingly intimate look at the psychology of our sufferer. This is attained because of the emotion felt by Silberman during his time in New york. In an interview I saw, Silberman explains that, “The record came about during the ending of one period of my life and the beginning of another…I’d say the record is semi-autobiographical. The story was written alongside the recording which took about a year and a half. It took a long time to make it make sense…” Merely hearing the pain in his choked-up voice shows the emotion Silberman feels talking about the album that is so much about himself. His pain makes the album so brilliant, it enables him to describe pain with astounding accuracy.

The best songs on the album are probably Bear, Two, Shiva, and Sylvia. Silberman and company have captured tragedy and loss, and paint the world in Hospice in a way that you are so drawn in that listening to the album almost makes you feel ashamed for peering down into the world of our sufferer, for seeing him get broken time and time again in the grand performance that is the world of Hospice.

-Scott Goldstein