The magic is in what I hear in the music, not where I’m told it fits within any modern construct of musical genres։ Videos, Photos

Music as artistic expression has many forms. As those forms evolve, the boundaries separating each one begin to blur. It’s a beautiful thing for the portion of our brain that processes what we hear, but a struggle for that portion which tries to explain it.

It’s an odd phenomenon with respect to an auditory medium like music because our first attempt at convincing others to listen to a particular band or song is often never based on the music itself, but rather our categorization of it.

We feel better with clearly defined lines: Blues. Rock. Jazz. Country. When music falls outside those lines, we draw new ones: Alternative. Indie. Classic. Modern. Post. Eventually, we simply combine them: Post-Punk Alternative Blues Rock.

I struggle to find meaning in any musical genres today. Too often, they are merely a word salad that does nothing to influence my consumption of music. It’s not as if I like music better when it is labeled.

The magic is in what I hear in the music, not where I’m told it fits within any modern construct of musical genres. Which brings me to The National and The War on Drugs.

Merely labeling them as “rock” bands seems both inadequate and a disservice to their respective artistry. Adding any number of adjectives to it is no better. Are they indie rock, alternative rock, post-punk revival, or art rock? Are they some of it, all of it, or none of it? Does it even matter?

At the end of the day, each band is a reflection of its individual members’ own musical tastes and influences, creating sounds that define themselves as a band rather than constricting themselves to a particular genre that defines their sound. With no boundaries, The National has created a sound that is, well, The National. The same can be said of The War on Drugs. To appreciate and love these bands is to listen to them, not define them.

In the case of The National, I often find myself listening to an orchestrated dance between the instruments of twin brothers Aaron Dessner (guitar, piano, keyboards) and Bryce Dessner (guitar), and brothers Scott Devendorf (bass) and Bryan Devendorf (drums). Matt Berninger (vocals) is the lone actor on the dance floor, but he does not merely sing the words to the songs – he emotes them, fully embodying the story’s character in each roughly 3- or 4-minute vignette.

I hear something different with The War on Drugs. Comprised of Adam Granduciel (vocals, guitar), David Hartley (bass), Robbie Bennett (keyboards), Charlie Hull (drums), Jon Natchez (saxophone), Anthony LaMarca (guitar), and Eliza Hardy Jones (percussion, keyboards), their music has a beautiful ambient undertow that moves each song along its rhythmic journey. It’s a layered sound. For some songs, the sonic waves of that journey are calm and soothing. For others, it’s a rollercoaster pulsating with excitement.

Both bands are currently on tour together, co-headlining the Zen Diagram Tour with special guest Lucius. The tour recently stopped in Chicago for a show at The United Center. Lucius opened the evening, which included a guest appearance from Granduciel to perform their newest single, “Old Tape.”

After a short break, The War on Drugs took the stage for a 10-song set that stretched back to 2010’s Future Weather (“Baby Missiles”) and through to 2022’s I Don’t Live Here Anymore (“Harmonia’s Dream,” “I Don’t Wanna Wait,” and “I Don’t Live Here Anymore”). They too collaborated with Lucius, welcoming the band on stage to perform the title track to I Don’t Live Here Anymore.

The National closed the evening, playing a 21-song set that stretched back twenty years to their 2004 EP Cherry Tree (“About Today”) and 2005 album Alligator (“Lit Up” and “Mr. November”), and through to their most recent album, 2023’s Laugh Track (“Smoke Detector”).

Not to be left out of the collaborations, The National brought out Granduciel for a cover of Echo & The Bunnymen’s “Bring on the Dancing Horses” and, later, Lucius to sing on “Rylan,” a song from the band’s 2019 album I Am Easy to Find.

Whether it was an orchestrated dance surrounding a lone actor, or a journey across beautifully layered sonic waves, it was a spectacular evening of music defined by the only thing that really matters, the music itself.