Swim or sink? Why not a bit of both.
Matt Berninger has established himself as a formidable artist as the frontman for the Grammy-award winning American rock band The National, where his most acclaimed skill lies in his songwriting with its poignant clarity, jagged-edged wit and intimately emotive melodies (via Concord). An impressive visual artist (painter, sculptor, etc.) as well, Berninger‘s creativity is not limited to words on paper (via Concord). Get Sunk finds Berninger on the other side of a depressive episode so severe it took that all away, leaving him without a will to create and with a need to find himself again. Indeed, a solid attempt at a return to self, Berninger ultimately forges forward despite moments where he seems to lose some of what made him so great.
Get Sunk welcomes a Berninger who is questioning himself and the entire process of coming to be (via bandcamp). This manifests as an album that is expectedly contemplative and reflective, from “Frozen Oranges” being a musical trip to the Indiana farm Berninger spent childhood summers on, to the stream of consciousness set to a beat (an exciting standout on the album for its unique play with form and sound) titled “Nothing Special.” Despite clearly having spent lots of time in thought, it is disappointing that the sharp insights that marked Berninger’s talent before are not as prevalent. That’s not to say the storytelling on Get Sunk is without its interesting moments (i.e., “Crows, bones, and ashes, and never-ending roaches / That’s what I’m betting on as morning approaches / Windmills and aliens and brown paper straws / Something’ll save me, baby, it always does, In times of heartache, get drunk/In times of tears, get sunk”); it’s simply that Berninger has proved himself capable of making more cutting, poetic, darkly humorous and interesting observations (“God loves everybody, don’t remind me, Your eyes are broken bottles / and I’m afraid to ask / and all your wrath and cutting beauty / you’re poison in the glass, I’m a perfect piece of ass / like every Californian, You know I dreamed about you / for 29 years before I saw you / you know I dreamed about you / I missed you for 29 years”) than he demonstrates on the album at times (“Lost cause, I have no emotion, The music’s so unromantic / Our eyeballs are red and dry / It doesn’t have anything to do with anything / The vibes aren’t right”). Interestingly enough, a different deviation from his normal proves rather successful. A few moments on the album (such as the love-filled depictions of Indiana) suggest that happiness and wonder are good looks on the sad dad of indie rock, some that could merit further exploration.
Get Sunk, objectively, does not see Matt Berninger at his best. As he pursues rediscovery, he inevitably loses some sight of what makes him so admired (namely his consistent perceptiveness and depth). However, there are glimpses of a new side to Berninger, as seen in his pauses in moments of newfound happiness, as well as enough instances of lyrical intrigue on the album to warrant continued trust in his songwriting prowess, that promise an interesting future filled with the new and familiar – after this transitional period.
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