Play the song and begin reading. You and the song will end at the same time.
Lemonworld - The National
I have a huge sonic crush on Bryan Devendorf’s percussion. From the NYT article, concerning Lemonworld:
“When the full band took on “Lemonworld,” the song traveled through iterations ranging from spooky to toe-tappy to hand-clappy. Through December and January, every Friday night the twins drove home from Bridgeport to Brooklyn, feeling glum about the song. Every Saturday they woke up and spent the weekend working in the studio that their older sister Jessica’s architect husband had converted for them out of Aaron’s garage. Bryce ushered in a procession of recent Juilliard graduates hired to lay down wind and string tracks, some composed for the band by the young classical composer Nico Muhly, others by Padma Newsome, an Australian who did arrangements for previous National albums. One Wisconsin singer named Justin was hired to record “ethereal” harmony vocals. Another Wisconsin singer named Marla was recruited to produce “girl next door” harmony vocals. (As Ohioans, the Dessners have idealized feelings about Wisconsin; they consider it “the purer, more wholesome Midwest.”) But at the end of January, on a day when Matt was not in Bridgeport, Aaron admitted, “ ‘Lemonworld’ is on the border of getting left behind.”
“It’s the runt,” Bryce agreed.
“It’s Melky Cabrera,” Aaron revised, referring to a former Yankees outfielder who never quite found his role and eventually was traded.
“It’s at least weird,” Bryce offered.
Then they hit on something, “a kind of tribal, throbbing sound,” as Bryan put it. This version required a soft, rhythmically complex drum part from him, and the others cheered, “Go, Seabiscuit!” as he settled in behind his kit. They were all wearing jeans and what appeared to be Truman-era sweaters. Bryan stands well over six feet to begin with, but like all talented drummers, when he’s working he seems to physically expand. Watching him now, Bryce said, “That’s where he’s most at home.” Bryan is the fellow band member whose intelligence and personality the others find most compelling. His nickname among them is Party of One, an allusion to how much beer he can hold, and also to more elusive qualities. For most of the Bridgeport weeks, while the others sat near the producer, Katis, at the sound board, Bryan was off hidden in a far corner with two sticks, tapping to himself. “Bryan doesn’t respond to any of the usual negotiations,” Bryce says.
The drum part Bryan kept producing for “Lemonworld” was landing too hard, and so he improvised. Summoning an old trick much favored by the Beatles, who, as Bryan noted, wrapped Ringo Starr’s skins with tea towels, Bryan went downstairs, rummaged around in Katis’s linen closet and found some pillowcases, which he proceeded to tear up and tape to his snare and both toms. These mutes cushioned the sound and made it somehow lusher. At nightfall, they listened, and what they heard made them all giddy. “The Stones would put a shaker with that guitar, synch it way down and it would be hot!” Aaron cried. So they added that too. “My pillowcases!” Katis suddenly noticed. But he didn’t really mind. Now they were downright chesty, strutting around the attic in their socks, “heading for a grand showdown with the Dark Lord,” as Katis put it. Off went “Lemonworld” by e-mail to Matt, whose texted response was “Twee Smurf!” Elaborating later he added: “It’s a great dark weird murky pop song, but it doesn’t lift off. We need to embrace its simplicity, not turn it into an art piece.” In the cold, clear light of Bridgeport dawn, the twins agreed with him. “It doesn’t sound like the way that we play,” Aaron said with a sigh.
….
Before anyone knew it, only “Lemonworld” remained. Since January they’d done it bright, done it drowsy, done it with violin parts overnighted from Australia by Padma Newsome, done it so many ways Bryce despaired, “It’s a riddle we can’t solve.” Finally, they went back to the twins’ original sketch, which Matt rerecorded in “a spare, head-cold voice.” When Calbi gave it a listen, he didn’t touch it. “With ‘Lemonworld,’ ” Matt said afterward, “we tried so hard and it always seemed to fail as a rock song. It lost the charm of the ugly little demo. Now it’s the ugliest, worst-mixed, least-polished song on the record, and it took the longest to get there.”
All of that trouble for good reason. It’s taking all of my self control not to post their entire discography right now.
