El Vy - Return To The Moon

Having never been convinced by The National, I wasn’t expecting to like Return To The Moon – a collaboration between their frontman Matt Berninger and US indie maverick Brent Knopf – as much as I did. That I did is chiefly attributable to the idiosyncratic stylistic flourishes that thread the record, and take El Vy (the plural of Elvis, according to the press release) away from the rockist tendencies that have given The National their suffocating earnestness.
Return To The Moon is essentially an album of quirky art-rock, and benefits greatly from Berninger and Knopf ’s carefree approach. Indeed, at times it could almost be described as fun – not a word one readily associates with The National. The freewheeling style is apparent on the opening number, which bears the imaginative title, ‘Return To The Moon (Political Song For Didi Bloome To Sing, With Crescendo)’. The tune is propelled along with driving post-punk rhythms, topped off with dreamy guitar notes.
It’s followed up with the crunching rocker ‘I’m The Man To Be’, which with slight industrial augmentation could actually pass for a Nine Inch Nails song. Lyrically, Berninger deploys the emotionally tinged, surreal style that National fans love, and the rest of us occasionally recoil from: “I couldn’t get hold of my big sister... I called room service and cried instead.” Clearly hoping to gain favour with your skeptical correspondent, the band have titled the next track ‘Paul Is Alive’, although I would have been happy enough with the music alone – mellow acoustic strumming merged with vintage ’80s synths.
Those in love with the gloomy atmospherics of The National will no doubt gravitate towards 'Silent Ivy Hotel' an eerie art-rocker which also echoes Radiohead. As the menacing soundscape churns, Berninger searches for emotional release: “I think the world’s about to end / I don’t need your love, I just need a friend”. Thom Yorke and the boys are once again the stylistic touchstone for ‘No Time To Crank The Sun’, an exquisite piano ballad with swirling electronic washes. Just in case anyone’s getting too comfortable however, there are some desolate guitar notes chipped in, while lyrically, Berninger leans on one of US alt. rock’s favourite techniques – exploit your pain: “Always knew there was something missing / Said no one would ever get me…”
Elsewhere, there’s more delicate acoustica on ‘It’s A Game’, the duo kick out the jams on the thumping rocker ‘Happiness Missouri’, and proceedings are rounded off with the melancholic folk of ‘Careless’, in which Berninger pleads, “Don’t be careless with me”. Overall, Return To The Moon didn’t quite make me a convert to the Berninger cause, even if I did warm to his angsty charm more than ever before.