... showered and blue blazing

Before The National's two days of shows at legendary Massey Hall, Toronto Life wrote a story about the band. The main take aways from this were that The National were the new hottest thing in "Dad Rock", and that Massey Hall was a great venue to see them because it was quiet, the crowds were reserved, and you could really concentrate on the music.

While members of The National are dads (and husbands), they're not ready to join the minivan set and worry about leaving a show early to beat traffic. And they're not about to let the austere aura of Massey Hall tone down their shows, which are gaining a reputation for a combination of great musicianship and bursts of frenetic energy.

The first of the two nights felt like it was going to a show full of chair dancing and appreciative nods, until "Bloodbuzz Ohio" (rapidly becoming the band's anthem, like "Mr November") when lead singer Matt Berninger jumped down from the stage and walked up the centre aisle, encouraging people to stand up, and then move down to fill in the small orchestra area. At that moment the show, as they say in the parlance of the time, was on.

The National's albums, including the most recent High Violet, can be stately affairs, sometimes coming off like the bastard son of Uncle Tupelo and Arcade Fire. That's not to say they're boring, but it's also not to say that you imagine an experience like, say, Pearl Jam. The truth is that the opposite is true. Lead singer Matt Berninger roams the stage with a nervous intensity, and will climb through the crowd from time to time. The band swings, rocks, and presents a full sound that shows their ambition - You may not hear the horns on some tracks, but they are up there on stage filling out the sound.

They also played a lot with the arrangements. "Apartment Story" started off a little rockier, grungier with strummed guitar and vocals, as opposed to the mellow swing that the album version has. "Squalor Victoria" is almost dirge-like on Boxer, but like it felt almost punk, rising up to an anthemic crescendo that filled the Hall. "England", my favorite track on High Violet, grew on both performances, reminding me of the last two minutes of Arcade Fire's "No Cars Go" - The score to a beautiful glowing apocalypse.

The sets were similar both nights, but different enough that I never felt I was getting the short shirft. The first night, the crowd was on point, full of True Believers. They took Berninger's cue and took over Massey Hall, singing and cheering along. This was much different than the last time I saw them in Brooklyn, where the crowd demanded silence. While that gave the Brooklyn show the sense of an occasion (which it was, as they were playing many of the High Violet tracks for the first time, and prior to the release of the album). The first Toronto night felt more like an event, and the band treated it as such. Despite their reputation as dour, they joked amongst themselves and the crowd, listened to requests, and even came out for an impromptu second encore.

The second night's crowd started quieter. I don't think there was much overlap between the two nights. Those who were there for the first night, I imagine, were those who leaped to their feet (such as myself) as soon as "Start a War" began. I also don't think the people from the first night expected the vitriol - pure, angry, hateful vitriol - that one person spewed in their general direction for their standing up, even being louder than the band at one point and lunging over two rows at one of those standing. I know it's Massey Hall, but it's also a rock show, damnit. Berninger brought the crowd to its feet during "Bloodbuzz Ohio", but the conduct of some people and the bouncers gave that a bit bitter taste. I know that people complain that Rogers Centre is where fun goes to die, but to be honest a lot of Toronto is like that. I'm not saying all venues should be wrecked by the crowd, but it would be nice if we didn't feel we needed permission to enjoy a show.

A few nights before I watched the MTV Movie awards, watching people like Katy Perry singing about bikinis and LMFAO looking like clowns for a really horrible children's party (and secretly thanked my stars for being childless by choice). For two nights I saw a band that loved what they did, were good at, and took pride in it. You can call it Dad Rock, but in reality it's just great, passionate music played with great passion.