In the early part of this year, I travelled to Long Pond, the recording studio of The National’s Aaron Dessner, in upstate New York. The eastern United States was still wintering then, and the land held a kind of quietness – one that met, it seemed, the tone of the band’s new record at the time, First Two Pages of Frankenstein.
Across a couple of days, The National’s five members talked of the difficulty of the last few years; the struggle of distance and pandemic lockdowns, of a long stretch in which the future of the band became unmoored, as lead singer Matt Berninger wrestled with depression and writer’s block. Berninger cried as we spoke. For a few moments, we sat quietly in the studio live room while he caught his breath. Outside, the snow lay knee-deep across the fields.
