Living in Northside is already paying off. After hedging and complaining that we’re old fogies, Tom and I made it out to the Comet up the street to catch a band. Small world, he knew some of the members from college and here they were back in town, on the verge of becoming something big. Now based in New York, they looked skinny and scruffy from being on the road so much.
The cafe was relatively empty, with about 30 folks all told. Dim lighting and the glow of brake lights through the steamed windows as a backdrop, The National played a handfuls of songs.
The lead singer’s gravelly bass colors the music a dark mellow shade. Hanging on to his makers and soda along with the microphone, you get a sense of the desperation fueling the lyric. It’s not shiny happy music, but it’s beautiful nonetheless.
I hope they find an audience, as it looks like they could use a string of good meals. I “borrow” lots of music from folks, giving it a spin on the hard drive, deciding which ones I want to have in high fidelity. I gladly forked over the cash for their latest, Sad Songs for Dirty Lovers. If you like My Morning Jacket, Death Cab for Cutie, or The Shins, but dark and heavy, you might check ’em out.