This summer, the world found out what The National would sound like without Matt Berninger on vocals: Taylor Swift’s surprise album Folklore, produced by The National guitarist Aaron Dessler, sounded exactly like that. But what would happen if The National was taken away from Berninger? The singer of one of today’s premier indie bands has decided to shut that question down and has released his first solo album.
Berninger, of course, has worked with other musicians many times and even created a side project EL VY, but everywhere he performed primarily as a guest vocalist. The Serpentine Prison album is different, it was recorded and conceived the way Matt wanted it to be.
It all started with the idea of a covers album that Berninger was going to record in between The National records. Together with the cover candidates (The Velvet Underground and Morphine among others), Matt sent his producer some of his own compositions, he approved them, and things got rolling.
It’s not that The National’s records exist in any other paradigm, but there’s always a strong influence from not only Berninger himself, but also the rest of the musicians, most notably twin brothers Aaron and Bryce Dessner. The National are probably the main contemporary singers of sadness, melancholy and loss, and their concerts can be easily compared to group psychotherapy sessions.
Berninger’s solo album is no longer psychotherapy, but a heart-to-heart talk with a friend. You won’t come to a conclusion, but the time will pass well. It’s as if Berninger removes all the contrivances, polyrhythms, dramatic techniques and sound experiments from the rather multilayered music of his main band, without creating excessive theatricality and hypertrophy. The guitar, voice and almost imperceptible instruments in the background remain, nevertheless creating a mood of relaxed sadness and nostalgia.
Under such conditions, Berninger’s lyrics change as well. It is much more down-to-earth and less abstract than The National’s, Matt does not address something common to his listeners, but his own experiences, romantic memories and images from his life. The musician says he writes songs for all his projects in the same way, and claims that if you mix them all up, you can’t tell which one is from where. This, of course, is sly, the differences are visible to the naked eye.
The simplicity of the songs helps create this sense of optionality and relaxation, they flow, moving one into the next. Not all of them are memorable, but some, like the titular Serpentine Prison and One More Second with its unsettling piano passage, sink into your soul the first time you hear them and stay there for a long time.
Most of the songs share a sense of impending dramatic progression, an epic resolution, a minor chord that puts a stop to the harmony. But the resolution doesn’t happen, and instead of a minor chord there is a major one, the drama is cut off at half a word.
The album was recorded long before Covid, but it’s surprisingly appropriate now with its nostalgic sadness: it makes you feel like you’re not alone in anxiously turning your back on the future and seeking solace in memories of the past. Not all of those memories are pleasant, but they bring back a sense of calm and predictability, much like Berninger’s songs.