The National

This writer's anticipation for the National show is truly immense: the Cincinnati band has by now grown big, both in terms of age and numbers. Their latest album “Trouble Will Find Me” has been on repeat on the home stereo for quite a while now, as indeed their entire discography always has been.

The National's shows are now selling out one after another, and only the sheer size of the Ippodromo del Galoppo prevents the same from happening in Milan too. Because it's a Monday and most people have work the next day, many will reach the venue just in time to catch the headliners, but in the end the turnout proves more than good. Once the gates open, a little late, we manage to get to the front row fairly easily, a choice that will also prove excellent given that - as we're told later - the sound further back turns out rather weak.

The task of warming up the crowd falls to Colapesce; his “Meraviglioso Declino” is actually a steady ascent, and Lorenzo Urciullo seems to have no intention of stopping. A great choice to focus on the faster songs in his repertoire, plus a cover of Lucio Battisti's “Anima Latina”, for a short set that goes down very well. On stage with Colapesce for this leg of the tour is also Alessandro Raina of the (now former?) Amor Fou, on guitar and additional vocals: a welcome surprise, given the excellent chemistry between the two voices.

“You can’t play what he plays. Even he can’t play what he plays”: so says Noel Gallagher about Johnny Marr. The Godlike Genius is the added value of the day; calling him a “support act” feels decidedly reductive and disrespectful, and the Dessner twins themselves will later pay him proper tribute, with a touch of envy, from the stage.

It's true that his set will be shorter than the usual standards of the European tour, but the former Smiths guitarist delivers a very lively show and proves himself a true stage animal. Experience is obviously not something he lacks, but called for the first time to also perform the new songs from his debut solo album “The Messenger”, Marr really makes a great impression: on stage he's pure dynamite, moving all over, working the crowd, and seemingly having finally found his vocal “comfort zone”, with special mention for the album's title track and “New Town Velocity”. Sure, he's not a great singer and never will be, but when you can pull off tricks like that on guitar, you can easily let it slide.

Of course there was no shortage of Smiths songs – not covers, since those songs belong to Marr just as much as to Morrissey – which sent the crowd into raptures and prompt a couple of reflections: the first is that the “karaoke effect” we feared before the show is averted thanks to Marr's own performance.

The second is as obvious as it is glaring: if you've ever had the fortune of seeing a Morrissey concert, you will certainly have noticed the absence of “something” on the musical side. That “something” is found precisely in Marr's fingers, in the way he plays with his instrument as he performs and reworks the riffs that made him immortal. Two separate sides of the same coin: fair enough, that's fine too — if Johnny Marr dedicates “There Is A Light That Never Goes Out” to those present only, it's only right to hug and start the sing along. Just let us daydream a little about what might happen if…

Right on time, The National take the stage at 9.30pm in full formation, with the addition of a horn section that will make itself heard and appreciated several times throughout the show (“This Is The Last Time” being one example). The set opens with “I Should Live In Salt”, from the latest album “Trouble Will Find Me”, which, logically enough, provides most of the night's setlist.

The new songs have already become instant classics for most of those present, and live they're enriched with new sonic touches (see the coda of “Graceless”) or simply with greater emotional impact: hearing the tremor in Berninger's voice, on songs already as intense as “Sea Of Love” and “Pink Rabbits”, can hardly leave anyone unmoved. On stage, The National are an almost flawless machine, running smoothly and without a hitch in service of Matt Berninger, the true focal point of attention; it's the singer himself who commits the only mistake of the evening, fumbling the intro to “Fake Empire”, the song that closes the first part of the show and also marks the end of the bottle of white wine the frontman brought on stage, complete with ice bucket and glass.

Of the twenty-four songs played tonight, there are few surprises; the set constantly alternates between new tracks and songs released from Alligator onward. The one, very welcome exception is “About Today” from the Cherry Tree EP, which reaches almost unattainable peaks of intensity.

The band returns for the encore – Berninger has switched to red wine in the meantime – announcing a song that's been missing from their setlist for a while: for a brief moment we're under the illusion we might get to hear “Lucky You” live. Instead it's “simply” “Runaway” from High Violet, the album that brought The National their real breakthrough fame.

“Humiliation” follows, then the now-customary closing trio: on “Mr. November” Berninger dives into the crowd to get, as he does every night, an embrace from the audience, making his way back on stage with their help. The version of “Terrible Love” is almost shouted, full of rage, in stark contrast with the acoustic finale of “Vanderlyle Cry Baby Geeks”, a highly evocative moment that has, however, lost a bit of the charm (and surprise) of the previous tour.

The National are by now one of the most important bands in the world, on the same level as Wilco and Arcade Fire, just to name two contemporary acts of similar stature and significance. They may never have the technical skill and instrumental prowess of the former, nor reach the sonic power of the latter: but none of that matters or is needed. Theirs are songs for sad hearts, and the importance of “feeling” the show on an emotional level goes beyond such things; if you're not “inside” their universe, it's like listening to the live show with only one ear.

That's why tonight sing-alongs are more common than handclapping – and by the way, it's never mandatory, and if you really feel the need, at least try to keep time – that's why tonight isn't about dancing, that's why it doesn't matter to us if Berninger occasionally slurs his words too much. The National live are a way to shed tension and fear, a balm for the soul. We can't ask any more of them than that.

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