Why size doesn’t matter to The National

AARON Dessner chuckles ruefully as conversation turns to ‘Beyoncé-gate’.

In 2011, his band, the National, headlined the second stage at the Oxegen festival. They went on at the very moment the world’s biggest pop star was bringing the curtain down on the main stage. Stepping from the wings, all they could see was tumbleweed.

“If I was given the choice I’d have rather gone to watch Beyoncé,” says the guitarist, good-naturedly. “I guess we were booked because they thought, ‘Oh, The National can pull it off — they can ‘close’ a stage at the same time as Beyoncé’. We knew it was going to be tough — like closing against Prince or Michael Jackson, these classic entertainers who are also huge celebrities.”

By that point, the National were already a big deal. They’d sold out Dublin’s Olympia five nights running and enjoyed a huge hit with catchy dirge ‘Bloodbuzz Ohio’. They don’t view the Oxegen incident as a disaster, says Dessner.

“We sometimes refer to ourselves as the ‘bad news players’ — we always seem to have these weird setbacks. No matter how high you rise, somehow you end up humiliated. In a way it’s healthy — a reminder success is relative. There’s something absurd about this entire business anyway, so you probably shouldn’t take it too seriously. It’s good to be brought down to earth — we tend to benefit from those extreme humiliations.”

Though their mournful sound doesn’t exactly scream top 10 success, The National have become one of the biggest brands in rock. Late last year, they sold out Dublin’s O2 — now they return for a four-date Irish tour that will see them play open air gigs in Cork, Galway and the capital. “We definitely have a special relationship with Ireland,” says Dessner. “That is why we chose to do three dates there, when we could have just come in for a festival.”

It all goes back to a semi-legendary gig at Whelan’s in Dublin in November 2005, at which they were blown away by the audience’s enthusiasm.

“That night was magical. The energy we got from the audience was incredible. We came back out on stage a couple of times.

“It was dramatic. Ever since, the shows we have played in Ireland have felt like a communal celebration. There is something about music that definitely strikes a chord with people there. They are so unafraid to show emotion.”

If ‘Bloodbuzz Ohio’ was the hit that brought the National into the spotlight, last year’s Trouble Will Find Me LP confirmed their status as one of the biggest bands in the world. This is remarkable considering the album is brooding and introverted, without much in the way of sing-along hooks.

“Everyone in the band is a fan of those classic records that reveal themselves over time,” says Dessner, who writes most of the music. “We believe popular music is an art-form, not just a commercial shiny thing. I don’t know if we could compose a hit single. I can’t say we’ve tried to. That isn’t to suggest we’ve avoided it either — it’s simply not in our DNA.”

The National’s rise hasn’t been entirely smooth. In particular, increasingly reclusive frontman Matt Berninger seems conflicted about leading an arena-level band. The first time this journalist profiled the group, I was able to call up Berninger at his Brooklyn apartment for a long and friendly chat. He was still working part-time as a graphic designer and didn’t have much in the way of rock star airs.

Nowadays, he rarely speaks to the media and, on stage, can seem discombobulated by the attention. When the National played the O2 in December, he repeatedly thwacked himself with the microphone. so that blood sluiced down his face.

“Without doubt there’s more pressure on Matt when we play. He’s the singer, the only guy without an instrument. The pressure he is under is different to that on the rest of us. He is never someone who wished to be in the spotlight. He’s socially awkward in a way, not a natural entertainer. At some point, he decided the smartest thing was to embrace the anxiety and fear, let it out, let people see him struggling.

“People can relate to that — what you see on stage is Matt basically losing his mind for two hours. It’s a lot of fun for him — he drinks wine, gets lost in the moment. Because he doesn’t have a guitar, he hits the mic, throws stuff. In a way we kind of envy the freedom. This is something he has grown into over time — he’s become the ‘anti-Steve Tyler’ [famously louche Aerosmith frontman]”.

The National, which also includes Aaron’s brother, Bryce, are childhood friends from Cincinnati, a provincial background keeps them grounded, Aaron believes. “There are times being in a big band feels surreal. You miss the intimacy and the interactions of the smaller places. It’s not the same as when we started out, riding around in a van, sleeping on floors, struggling. However, we’ve been doing this for 15 years now and it’s always felt like a logical progression. We’ve never had anything handed to us.”

* The National play Live at the Marquee, Cork July 14; Festival Big Top, Galway, July 16; Iveagh Gardens, Dublin July 18, 19