eMusic Review 0
This is the moment where the shift begins: on Cherry Tree, the National transition out of grizzled alt-country that occasionally nods toward Echo & the Bunnymen, and into the stately, brooding melancholy that would define their later work. Clocking in at under a half-hour, Cherry Tree is focused and filler-free: moving opener "Wasp's Nest" finds Berninger both attracted to and wary of the same woman, describing her as a "humming live wire" and "a cuss and a storm in a cocktail dress." The title track is even more ominous, introducing the slow, tense burn that would define the group's best work. As Bryce's guitar runs dizzy circles in the background, blowing around like dry leaves in a winter breeze, Berninger whispers, eerily, over and over: "loose lips sink ships, loose lips sink ships, loose lips sink ships." Whatever it is that drove him to this realization is obscured, but one thing is certain — the full weight of its repercussions were just beginning to be felt.
