I'm an unmodified fanboy when it comes to The National and I'm done with apologising, I won't casually shrug them off and I will profess to relentlessly stalking them on YouBox ever since the Cherry Tree EP.
I'll namedrop their obscure earlier releases and call the neophytes all sorts of names, the way I used to do with Pearl Jam or Elliott Smith or, well, Gene.
They may be decried for speaking to awkward adolescents masquerading as unsettled thirty-something men but, fuck it, that's probably me.
That's mostly me seeking the furthest corner of the canteen in work so I don't have to make the silly talk with men I've never cared for, men and women who blow on all day about screengrabs and OBs and malfunctioning servers, women and men who haven't learned my name through ten long years of awkward nods over coffee.
"Are you using that milk?"
If there's any other music to nail that particular hum and drum I'd like to hear it because I've been talking up these boys for way too long now, and it's not like they're going to get to play Whelans again.