Live Review: The National, Little May

Matt Berninger always sounds like he's confessing something in his sleep when he sings, like he's caught in some intensely vivid dream.

Indifferent to his surroundings (in this case, the forecourt of the Sydney Opera House for the second time in four years), he shuffles around, tugging his clothes, yelling at nothing, caught in a loop in his head. Then he comes back, cracking a joke, thanking us in his signature baritone and moves on. The show, the first of two at this venue, hinged on him and his restless state of mind, as it often does. Their new album, Sleep Well Beast, is an unstable mixture of livewire agitation and intimacy, and their setlist, borrowing heavily from their seventh LP, was similar in tone. It's their best effort yet in terms of matching Berninger's mercurial live presence. The show was a triumphant return for the Ohio natives, a messier, more organic piece of theatre bolstered by an equally complex album. 

Opening up was Little May, a Sydney outfit whose album For The Company was produced by The National's Aaron Dessner. They played a light'n'tight collection of easy alt-country and vocalist Hannah Field has a late-night style that suited the overcast evening. There was very little dynamism in their sound, the plodding rhythms and dreamy guitar work doing little to stir things up. When they got to stretch things out - like many bands who thrive in slow, minor-key environments - they found some traction and by the end of the set they'd made a good impression.

The National's set was an impressively deep dive, drawing from material reaching back before Alligator. Bigger songs like The System Only Dreams In Total Darkness and Squalor Victoria tested Berninger's voice, and Turtleneck almost broke it. It was exhilarating watching Berninger shift from brooding navel-gazing one minute to frothing lunatic the next. Touching dedication Wasp Nest nestled between This Is The Last Time and a masterful rendition of Secret Meeting. The latter's seductive paranoia was an unexpected delight, a full-blooded take on a second-tier classic. A beautifully muscular version of Day I Die could've comfortably closed the show, but the inevitable inclusion of Fake Empire proved unimpeachable. A generous encore allowed time for a blustery Mr November and a version of Terrible Love that was unexpectedly moving.

Many moons ago Ben Marshall, the promoter largely responsible for the Sydney Opera House's contemporary success, first brought The National out to our shores. A late tip-o'-the-hat from Berninger was as charming as it was heartfelt and was one of the hundred-or-so tiny details that made the show a success.