I was DJing a wedding up at Merridale on Friday and so that gave me a chance to chat with Jess. She asked if I had bought me tickets for The National w/ Frightened Rabbit in Vancouver on September 22nd. We reminisced about all the great National shows we’ve been to over the years… I looked at my schedule…it will be a weird (and expensive) weekend, but I *could* make it happen…and what’s the point of money right?
Backtracking a bit…. While driving the highways and multi-lane freeways of Holleywoodland, USA I felt the urge to listen to Trouble Will Find Me but I had forgot to upload it on my phone.
When we got home, the need to listen to this record, really listen, would not go away. Back in Victoria, most my driving happens in the Purple Minivan and its audio technology harkens back to a previous century. I thought… hmm, I already have the record on vinyl, and MP3, what the heck eh? What’s $15 MORE dollars on The National and off to Ditch I went for the compact disc.
My campsite on Salt Spring on Mount Bruce looking over at Mount Maxwell and Burgoyne Bay.
It was a wise investment as this weekend saw my little mobile disco on tour with the previously mentioned party at Merridale and then on off to Salt Spring Island. Lots of music time.
I love The National. I can’t explain why, I think its because they write music that speaks to married Dad type dudes who need to work for a living. I dunno.
But the other thing about The National. I never like the new record when I first hear it. But something happens, and I love it more than the last. I need to sit with it, Listen to it.
When I rolled into work this morning, I was pretty amped. It was a mighty weekend of DJing parties out in natural settings for folks that were there to party. I camped. I listened to The National.
I fired up my morning email…. Bob Lefsetz. Of course. And an email about how the album is dead. He likes ripping into The National which I always found kinda weird. Its like he says all the time, “work hard, make good music, tour, be honest, be all over social media.” Which they do, but then he hates that they don’t write hits and you need to actually listen to the albums.
“Wait a minute, maybe you’re one of those people who believe the vinyl revolution is gonna conquer our society and you truly are listening to albums, albeit the National and other modern acts(…)”
He is going off about how the world hates records (stats don’t lie, they do) but that is not the music fans problem. Who cares?
“Don’t extrapolate from your musical addiction to the entire world.
The entire world doesn’t live and breathe music, doesn’t give a whit about your so-called career and only has time for excellence, because they’re so overbooked, their online calendars look like the Rosetta Stone.”
I will admit, that was a hard lesson to learn early in my radio career. I LOVE music, I made the assumption that EVERYONE did. Nope, most people just kind of hang out. But with a couple years, shaking a lot of hands, meeting a few people. That’s cool. They love other things, everyone loves something.
“No one’s got that much time to waste. No one wants to hear that much bad music. No one wants to listen to your album ten times to get it. That’s what we did when we had no cash and could only afford one disc, play it ad infinitum, now we just play what’s phenomenal.”
Wasting time is awesome. People should do it more. A record you have to sit with and listen to a few times when you’re navigating a switch backed logging road in the rain on an Island somewhere in the Pacific is amazing.
In conclusion. The national is great. Bob Lefsetz gets a C- for hating on The National but an A+ for digging In-N-Out Burger.
Go with yourself.
The Morning After 
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