Gig Review: The National @ TSB Arena, Wellington, 25 February 2024

I’m a longtime fan of The National, collecting virtually everything the band has released over the past couple of decades. More or less, give or take. So naturally, having missed all of the band’s previous outings in Aotearoa, I picked up tickets for their first ever Wellington show as early as last September. It felt like a long wait.

When The Beths were later added to the bill as the Wellington support - Fazerdaze getting the prior night’s Auckland slot - it was merely a bonus. But it also ensured I was at the venue suitably early to catch the much-loved local power-poppers’ set. By my own unscientific estimation, in terms of gigs, I’ve probably seen more of The Beths than I have of any other live act across the past decade or so.

Once again they didn’t disappoint, pumping out as polished a half hour set - around ten songs - as I can recall from them, with a mix of old and newer tracks offering the perfect taster for any Beths-newbies. My own pick of the bunch being ‘Whatever’, the oldest track of all, an ageless banger that seems to sound better each time I hear it. Perfect pop from a band continually striving to achieve exactly that.

 I’d heard really great things about The National’s live shows. Some reports even suggesting that the band’s compelling live performances far and away exceed any notional high bar created by its recorded output. That’s a fairly big call, and it’s one that was perhaps the main catalyst for my own *relative* level of disappointment upon exiting the near full venue late on Sunday night.

It’s hard to put my finger on exactly what disappointed me. And I’m not even sure disappointment is the right word. More nonchalance, or indifference on my part.

It wasn’t as though the band was lacking any professionalism or inspiration. It wasn’t a lack of effort on their part. The set-list was decent - stacked with older classics blended with more recent stuff. They played for more than two hours, and with frontman Matt Berninger to the fore as the focal point, The National has an energetic and beguiling stage presence rivalled by very few bands on the stadium circuit.

Indeed, there’s been worse concerts at that venue that I’ve enjoyed far more, for whatever reason that was. The one I can’t put my finger on.

Those “older classics” included the likes of ‘Squalor Victoria’, ‘Bloodbuzz Ohio’, ‘Conversation 16’, and the slow burning, now 20-year-old, ‘Cherry Tree’. All of them immaculately presented with enough live grit in there to make each one a captivating enough experience. But there was also a little splash of mud in the vocal mix, a lack of clarity even, and while Berninger’s baritone croon works brilliantly on record, I felt his live, clipped, almost shouty/spoken vocal delivery, was found a little wanting at times.

That angsty line in ‘Conversation 16’ where he sings “I was afraid, I’d eat your brains … cos I’m evil” loses some of its horror impact when you remove a more ambiguous croon from its wider punch, and replace it with a short sharp shouty jab.

The “newer stuff” included the recent break-up anthem ‘Eucalyptus’, which went down well as an early treat, ‘Tropic Morning News’, and much later, ‘Alien’. Again, all great, but the band’s focus seemed to be more around its 2010 to 2020 work, with obligatory lip service paid to the two most recent 2023 album releases.

That meant ‘Demons’, ‘Don’t Swallow The Cap’, a superb ‘I Need My Girl’, ‘Day I Die’, ‘Rylan’, ‘Graceless’ et al. Plus others.

At one point, mid-song, Berninger left the stage and made his way to near the bar at the back of the venue - without buying a round! - continuing to “sing”, his stage tech forced to work a minor miracle to keep man and microphone connected. All it would take is some clown in the crowd to do his absolute worst … a thought I quickly and admirably managed to suppress as Berninger passed within an arm’s reach of me.

A five-song encore meant Wellington was treated to a set-list of more than a couple of dozen carefully selected tracks, the band doing more than enough to make up for lost time in the capital, and there’s no doubt they offered good value for money.

The crowd itself was an interesting mix. From the young and the single, to middle-aged couples and everything in-between. An outing for those of a mainstream persuasion perhaps, while it also remains clear - on account of thoughtful clever lyricism mostly - that The National can still court fringes of the indie scene its music has always remained on the very periphery of.

It’s a fine line. Nobody wants to be thought of as an American version of Coldplay, do they?

I’m pleased I went along. Sunday night and all. To scratch that itch.

Are The National a better live proposition than they are as a studio outfit?

That’s a hard “no” from me. Not from this experience anyway. They’re good, possibly great, but that discography is a little bit special.

They’re certainly much more energetic on stage, no question, but for clarity of sound, for sense of purpose and direction in the production, for Berninger’s lush vocal delivery, I’m more than happy to content myself with the band’s studio work. And just quietly, I probably won’t rush out to buy tickets if they visit here again. 

No pics with this one. I took some, but none of them were particularly great when viewed in the cold light of the following day, so I’ll spare you that.