Live Review: The National, Little May

Just like The National's 2017 Grammy Award-winning album Sleep Well Beast made this scribe believe in LPs again, their Brisbane show invigorated our love for the live gig. It's almost as if nature conspired to create the perfect setting, as a city that for the last two nights had been battered by storms stayed clear and dry with just the right amount of cooling breeze.

Openers Little May take to Riverstage humbly. The trio has been reclusive for the last couple of years, which is something that vocalist Hannah Field mentions apologetically. The band's last album, 2015's For The Company, was produced by The National's Aaron Brooking-Dessner, which makes them a lovely fit as they sail through 45 minutes of their signature brand of folk-rock.

If this reviewer was a person of fewer words, The National's Brisbane concert could be summed up in just one: perfect.

Luckily, I have about 500 more to tell you everything. The perfection began with drummer Bryan Devendorf. Illuminated by his fluorescent hat and the strategic stage set-up, Devendorf has such masterful control over the flow of the band that it transforms them into one living entity with himself as the beating heart.

Kicking off with album opener Nobody Else Will Be There, we can immediately tell that the band is in top form. The System Only Dreams In Total Darkness (one of the best guitar solos in the game), Walk It Back and Guilty Party slip seamlessly into the cool night air, sounding studio perfect with just enough live additions to give them a little extra spice.

If Devendorf is the heart of the band then trombonist Ben Lanz and trumpet player Kyle Resnick are the lungs, breathing exhilarating life into every song that their horns bless. It can often be difficult to get correct levels from the sound desk at a large, outdoor venue like Riverstage, but the horns come through stunningly, in particular during late set track Carin At The Liquor Store.

A pearl of a moment came in the form of Sleep Well Beast highlight, Dark Side Of The Gym. As soon as  that signature waltz percussion comes in, this reviewer goes weak at the knees, entranced, like so many around us, by the simple beauty and passion of a tune that serves as a sweet reprieve from songs about loss and longing.

Now, we come to vocalist Matt Berninger. The frontman is endlessly entertaining and his vocal work is consistently on point. Whether he's screaming through Boxer classic Squalor Victoria or hazily requesting someone bring him snacks from the stand at the back of the amphitheatre ("I smoked a little weed and I can't stop looking at that nachos sign up there"), the singer is captivating from start to finish.

Following a thankfully short break, The National return to the stage for an encore that is worth the price of admission alone. Before they even begin playing, an intrepid crowd member delivers Berninger the nachos he so badly craves, which the singer joyfully swaps for a full bottle of wine amid huge cheers from the audience. Then the band appease two die-hard fans that have been waving bunny cut-outs all night by delivering an awe-inspiring rendition of little-heard Trouble Will Find Me cut Pink Rabbits.

Following this fan-service, Berninger jumps into - and proceeds to thread through - the crowd for Mr November, punters crowding around him like he was the Pied Piper.

It was then time for the, now signature, singalong to Vanderlyle Crybaby Geeks. The mics are done away with, the acoustic guitars come out and horns are at the ready for Berninger to conduct thousands of loving crowd members through a touching moment in time.

It is thrilling, it is exceptional, it is The National.