r/TheNational

I got an email saying they would contact me the week of the 17th with my ticket. Few questions:

1. do they call, email or both?

2)for those who have won the lottery what is the price range for tickets?

3. is there a time limit to purchase the ticket once I get the email/get contacted?

Keen to hear what first dance songs people have used or what they think is the most romantic

I would love any music recommendations, Ntnl adjacent or otherwise. Boxer was my favorite album of all time but I can't bring myself to listen anymore. Love songs kill me and heartbreak songs suffocate me; happy songs make me mad and sad songs make me cry. But I miss music, and I'm hoping someone has a solution.

I'm getting married next year, and my soon-to-be husband played and sang me Carin at the Liquor Store the first night he brought me back to his house. The National has been our constant soundtrack and will be more than one dance at our wedding. I'm trying to organize a wedding gift for him, and it's a bit of a pipe dream but a signed & dedicated copy of Sleep Well Beast from Matt/the band would be such an incredible gift. I've never tried to reach out to a band like this before, does anyone have any tips on the best way to get in touch with someone about this? Is it messaging the band directly on Instagram? DMs are also open if anyone has recommendations they'd like to send directly!

Hi everyone!

I’m heading to the San Sebastián show solo (i know it’s a while off) but gauging interest if there’s anyone else who’d like to hang out before/after the show!

I personally can’t wait and love it’ll be a load of die hard national fans involved ❤️

https://preview.redd.it/94qs5zf2frih1.png?width=1536&format=png&auto=webp&s=44764b8653a2448b434ae7c1c9c2819008e2c634

Here are the full results of our daily polling! No real surprises for me, to be honest.

And I’m shamelessly plugging my “Best of The National” Spotify playlist, which has somehow racked up 3.3k saves over the years

Their best album. It’s them at their coolest too. Such good songs and it’s produced so well. Like it’s quiet and scrappy and messy and elegant all at once. Like it feels so swampy and warm like a sweaty bar idk it’s so good. And omg the little details are so cool, especially on “Baby We’ll Be Fine”. There’s all kinds of little things going on in the background and it really rewards repeated listening. My fav album of all time. It’s funny because when I first saw Alligator in their discography, it didn’t really hook me. I also love the strings that just sorta swell in the back during the chorus of “Karen”. Sooooo good. The musicianship is great too like these guys are so damn talented. I genuinely love every single song on this record and I’m quite surprised when people hate on “Val Jester”, it’s such a cool song and the chanting ending is so eerie but in the best way possible.
Matt’s lyrics are some of his best on this record and the way he just sings them are so perfect. Like, everything is perfect about this album I don’t even know how to explain it. I love how “Abel” and “Mr. November” are explosive and so indie rock-ish, I love when Berninger screams!

What are your thoughts/highlights? 🐊

Honestly might be Berninger’s best lyrics. Contender for the saddest national song.

Lyrics:
Every house on the street
Will get on their feet
Carry the sleepers out into the weather, from the violet cities
The violet cities
They'll turn on their lights and open their eyes
Drop to their knees and they'll drink from the river in the violet cities
The violet cities
On and on they'll lead us on and
On and on they'll lead us on
We'll all get high and walk off
Into the country, ridiculous country
Where the blue sky will smother us
Believe me, believe me, believe me
The blue sky will smother us
They'll open their doors and they'll sing to the sun
We don't know anymore how to glitter we come
From the violet cities
The violet cities
If we stand there and stare and everyone's come
They may never find out that we came here at all
From the violet cities
The violet cities
On and on they'll lead us on and
On and on they'll lead us on
We'll all get high and walk off
Into the country, ridiculous country
Where the blue sky will smother us
Believe me, believe me, believe me
The blue sky will smother us
Believe me, believe me, believe me

I am going to be trying to get a ticket in the general sale today. I have made an account with the site, do I just refresh at half ten (uk time) or is there a way of getting in the lobby of what ever as you would with a ticket master sale?

As above

I won’t be anywhere near Spain so it’s a bit remote but it’s fab to hear them reuniting

And this is where they’ll discuss 2027. Could be a year to record then tour or simply tour. Either is great news.

I’ve come full circle with Taylor Swift. 

Way back when I first encountered her, I had an off feeling. I got the sense that it was all for show (pun unintended), and that there was some sort of machine behind the perfectly groomed facade. As for the music, none of it resonated, and when I saw the lyrics on paper, they just seemed so… well, basic. 

I prefer deep, poetic, punch-in the gut songs. Pretty vocal melodies and dirty guitars. Which is why I love The National. And why, when it comes to Swift, I couldn’t understand what all the fuss was about. 

Then there was the backstage incident. Enter multi-instrumentalist Aaron Dessner. I’d heard about the Brooklyn meetup in 2019, where Swift declared herself a ‘superfan’ of his band, The National, and where, swiftly (pun intended), she nabbed Dessner’s phone number. 

I’ve been a National fan since 2004. I went to my first concert in 2005. My life was forever changed. Like, literally, changed. I’ve since seen them play dozens of times and they’ve kinda become the soundtrack to my life. I read a gig review once somewhere that stated “The National have no casual fans, they have a cult, obsessive audience.” And you kinda have to be a National fan to understand that. Never a truer word etc... No one likes The National. Everyone that I know who listens to their music and goes to their shows (and I know dozens and dozens of these people) loves, no adores The National. We adore them. So her superfan comment jarred. And I’d never heard of her going to any of their concerts before the Brooklyn show, and the only reference to any National song I’d seen was “Carin at the Liquor Store”. Nothing else. No public expressions of admiration or lyric mentions. No posed selfies with an album cover or a band member. Nothing. It was weird. 

Next thing we know, Dessner’s produced her two lockdown albums. At this point, many fans called him a “sellout” but I reserved judgement. I’d always believed in him and I’d loved everything he‘d ever produced, like, literally. Sharon Van Etten, Ben Howard, Frightened Rabbit, Lisa Hannigan… However, when I heard the new Swift music, and saw the photos of her in folksy braids and woollen sweaters, again, something jarred. It felt off, and somewhat staged. It felt like she was commoditising his magic, but not because she needed a sprinkling of indie fairy dust on an already established folk / indie catalogue. It was more that she had no cred or experience in that genre, and so was basically hijacking his. 

The narrative presented to the public seemed to be one of pure, organic lockdown magic; brilliant musician swooping in to rescue a pop star from her listless quarantine.

But looking closely at the pattern, it began to bear all the hallmarks of a form of corporate love-bombing. She doubled down on her self-declared “superfan” status, and publicly named them her favourite band, bringing Dessner increasingly into her public orbit, wheeling him out like a prop on the Eras tour, and eventually, finding her way onto The National's own records. 

What was once a fiercely guarded, almost underground, indie ecosystem was suddenly flooded by an army of commercial pop fans.    This wasn’t merely a collaboration; it felt more like a creative takeover hiding in plain sight beneath an air of artistic admiration. In this court of pop royalty, it felt as though indie icons were being brought in as high-credibility props to enhance their brand value, only to then find their own artistic territory tainted by the empire. For long-time fans of The National, her sudden encroachment into their catalogue felt less like the meet-cute of two artists making sweet music, and more like the sudden erosion of something that had once felt distinctly, and preciously,  theirs.

So I sat with that awhile, desperately trying to appreciate the subtleties of “Cardigan” and wondering what I was missing. Then, cajoled by my niece, I watched “Miss Americana” and, I gotta admit, I was surprised. I was expecting a show-off. Instead, I saw a humble, yet inspiring and self-possessed woman making up songs on the fly. It felt relatable. I was struck by the vulnerability of it. Here was a multi-billion-selling pop star actually being humble. And I thought “So maybe I was wrong.” 

Then, the wedding. 

When I heard that it was going to be at Madison Square Garden, the first thing that occurred to me was*“What a clever ruse.”* I thought it was genius. I later conjectured that, geography permitting, she may even play a show for her fans at The Garden. I mean, if you’re  going to spend millions on a decoy, hey, why not make the most of it? How naive I was.

As the Big Day approached, the countdown was everywhere - the news, social media, the water cooler - and I kept thinking “When are we going to know the real venue?” 

Imagine my horror then at the slowly dawning realisation that she was actually getting married in a bunker.  

Actually, horror wasn’t it. It was more like incredulity. Confusion. It just didn’t make any sense. 

Then it hit me. This time, no slowly-boiling-frog realisation. It was more like a truck. I read about the staged entrance times. The NDAs. The phone bins on arrival. The invitations to multiple talk show anchors: Robin Roberts, Michael Strahan, George Stephanopoulos, Jimmy Fallon and Graham Norton. The optics were now presenting more like a corporate networking event than a wedding. 

But the most glaring red flag of the evening sat right at the altar. In a move that shocked industry insiders, the bride opted to completely skip having traditional bridesmaids, instead appointing her younger brother, Austin Swift, as her lone "Man of Honour". Various theories circulated about the decision, including suggestions that it avoided the politics of choosing among a large friendship circle. But I think the arrangement seemed more transactional. Austin is not just a sibling; he also occupies a significant role within her multi-billion-dollar corporate machine. As a music executive at 13 Management, he handles her music licensing, helps broker her massive catalogue, and has executive-produced her streaming projects.

By replacing personal friends with a literal corporate employee at the altar, the message felt unmistakable. I later realised that Swift’s plus one at the Brooklyn National show wasn’t her best friend, a lover or a music collaborator; it had been her brother. 

As for the rest of the guests, the choreography of compliance began long before the vows. Invitees weren’t treated like honoured guests; they were strictly sorted into an aggressive, tiered arrival system that dictated exactly when they were permitted to report to the venue. Lower-priority peers were told to show up hours early, only to have the trap snap shut the moment they entered the arena. Security asked them to give up their mobile devices, locking them away into secure glass cases. It was all starting to feel more like production than celebration. 

The result seemed to be an unprecedented celebrity purgatory: a room full of the world’s most hyper-connected people, stripped of their digital lifelines, some left with absolutely nothing to do, apparently, for two agonizing hours, before a single drop of food or champagne was served. Director Joseph Kahn later remarked online that he hadn't been separated from his phone for that long since 1992. 

For 120 minutes, Hollywood’s elite sat (well, the ones lucky enough to find chairs) in

isolation, deprived of sunlight, unable to text, left with little choice but to wait there patiently until the main attraction decided to grace them with her presence.

So later, as they shuffled through (according to reports) chaotic buffet lines, the true theme of the evening became clear. Whilst this was clearly a celebration of love (I mean, it was a wedding), it was also a masterclass in social dominance. By the end of the evening, in lieu of a party favour, every A-lister in attendance had effectively walked out wearing an invisible sticker on their forehead reading: I’m an idiot.

And then, the fans. It almost seemed as though Swift had forgotten about them. Well, I certainly haven’t. For days afterwards (still in a blur of confusion) many fans were scouring the media and refreshing their screens every ten minutes for a photo of the happy couple. Just one. They were desperate to see the dress. After all, this had been touted as a royal wedding, and if there’s one thing that defines a royal wedding, it’s inclusivity; everyone’s involved. In England we even get the day off. But nope. The disappointment on my niece’s face. The will she / won’t she media chatter. Yet nothing.

As many fans know, Swift has a multi-million-dollar contract with Disney. Many conjectured that the reason for the NDAs and the public filming notices on the streets outside the venue was because a documentary was in the offing. Yet they still thought they deserved one picture of the Disney Princess. 

Again, this threw me. That’s not the way to treat your fans. It’s just mean. And Swift doesn’t strike me as mean. So what the hell was happening?

Ultimately, perhaps the strangest thing about the spectacle at Madison Square Garden was not the queues, the phone bins, or even the apparent lack of seats. It was the sense that everyone, from the biggest names in Hollywood to the most devoted fans watching (a bunker covered in release waiver signs) from home (including me, dumbass), had been reduced to a mere component in a vast, meticulously controlled machine. 

Perhaps this is the paradox of the moment we are living through. Material power is becoming ever more concentrated at the top, with the richest becoming extraordinarily richer, whilst the poor just get poorer. It’s as stark as it is obscene.

And yet, culturally, the reverse seems to be happening. People are increasingly sceptical of gatekeepers and rigid status hierarchies, gravitating instead towards peer networks, direct connection and more decentralised forms of influence. The new era seems to be ushering in flat, decentralized networks, built on authentic peer connections.

Ultimately, the chaotic spectacle at Madison Square Garden exposed  the hollow, transactional nature of the modern elite. Somewhere along the way, the line between wedding and movie production seemed to have become rather blurred. Perhaps that is the paradox. The machinery was so elaborate precisely because the illusion of effortless magic had to be maintained. Everything had to be controlled in order to look spontaneous; everything had to be managed in order to look magical.

But fake grass, really?! 

And perhaps that is what unsettled me most. Not the fake grass. But that this was a celebration of love. And yet, alongside that love, there was something else: an extraordinary demonstration of power, hierarchy and control. 

That made my heart hurt. And not even a little bit. A lot. 

So, in the end, was this the fairytale wedding we had all been promised? The Disney princess marrying her sporting hero in a real-life fairytale? Or have we all been led up the Garden path? Only time will tell. 

I received an email earlier today proposing a new ticket allocation (moving my tickets which were seated separately to two tickets seated together). The turnaround time to approve the reallocation is tight, so be sure to check your emails

Hi everybody, sorry if this has been asked before. I feel like the band really released their best stuff (Boxer, High Violet, Trouble Will Find Me) when Padma Newsome was involved. Why is he no longer involved?

Hi everyone,

I think the title tells it all. I'm pretty sure it was recorded and posted temporarly on youtube at some point. Can you help me please?

Thank you :)

edit: *"performance" not "performe" in the title (autocorrect by my french keyboard)