RIYL: Arcade Fire, Interpol, The Walkmen
Somehow I was one of the few music writers not to swoon for The National’s 2007 critical darling The Boxer. I found it a little boring and hard to get into.
So why, a couple of years later, have I responded so positively to High Violet? It’s not like they’re doing anything radically different. Sweeping and anthemic but still low-key indie rock is this band’s calling card, and has been pretty much since its self-titled debut album came out in 2001.
One element of my turnaround can be credited to seeing the band live last summer during the Virgin FreeFest, or whatever they’re calling it now, at Merriweather Post Pavilion in the Maryland suburbs.
They were sandwiched between Public Enemy and Girl Talk on the second stage, and to be honest I stuck around only because I didn’t feel like fighting the pre-Weezer crowd at the bigger stage up the hill.
Frontman Matt Berninger won a laugh by quipping, “We’re The National, and we’re actually a lot like Public Enemy,” or something similar. They then proceeded to make a believer out of everyone in hearing distance, putting on one of those gripping and uplifting shows that sneaks up on you and makes you reconsider everything you’ve heard from this band before.
Like the show, High Violet is a slow but hard charger. The album takes a while to get going, and being front-loaded with titles such as “Terrible Love,” “Sorrow,” “Little Faith” and “Afraid of Everyone” gives the listener a pretty good sense of the vibe.
And a vibe is pretty much the only guidepost you get lyric-wise. I may be missing something, but lines like “you and your sister live in a lemon world” and “I was carried to Ohio on a swarm of bees” don’t jump out as super-meaningful.
But by the time “Bloodbuzz Ohio” rolled around six tracks in, I began to realize I was entranced, and the excellent “Conversation 16” and “England” kept me listening right until the end. And I’ve kept listening since, again and again. (4AD 2010)
Rio is largely considered to be the Duran Duran’s watershed moment, but one could make a very strong case for their eponymous debut as the best album they’ve ever done. There isn’t a duff track in the bunch, and the album’s three singles (“Planet Earth,” “Girls on Film,” “Careless Memories”) are pound for pound the best batch of singles from any album in the band’s catalog. The most interesting facet of the album in retrospect is how well balanced it is; everyone gets their chance to shine, from John Taylor’s slinky bass lines to Nick Rhodes’ icy, flanged keyboard treatments to Andy Taylor’s forceful guitar riffs. It is the marginalization of that last one that would prove to be the band’s undoing down the road. 
Only two years removed from their debut, Duran Duran’s third album completes the transformation from rock band to pop act, and while the band was never more successful than they were here, time has not been kind to Seven and the Ragged Tiger. The backup singers, the percussionist…it all seems a little silly now, doesn’t it? In truth, the band could have released any old piece of junk at this time – and some would argue that they did – and it would have sold like hotcakes, but in their defense, the band did brew up a few truly great tunes. “New Moon on Monday” is arguably the band’s most underrated single, and “Shadows on Your Side” contains that dark edge that made earlier songs like “Night Boat” so haunting. And “The Seventh Stranger,” for all its bombast, is still a hell of a closer. 
In stark contrast to Seven and the Ragged Tiger, So Red the Rose, the Duran spinoff group formed by Simon LeBon, Nick Rhodes and Roger Taylor while John and Andy formed the Power Station, has held up remarkably well. Yes, Alex Sadkin’s production leaves much to be desired, namely the lack of a bottom end to these songs. (Once again, Nile Rodgers came to the rescue and remixed third single “The Flame.”) But “Side II” of So Red the Rose remains a fascinating listen. With Andy out of the way, LeBon and Rhodes were allowed to explore their art rock tendencies without resistance, and in the process created three songs that bested half of the album their idol Bryan Ferry released the same year. “Election Day” and “Goodbye Is Forever” were the radio hits, but they’re the least interesting moments here. “Keep Me in the Dark” is the band’s love letter to Roxy Music’s Avalon, and “El Diablo,” which inspired the pen name for “Juno” screenwriter Diablo Cody, is as theatrical a moment as the band’s ever made.
