I popped in the latest Black Rebel Motorcycle Club CD knowing only two things about the band: It has garnered a reputation as some sort of hard rock phenom, and its name is dripping with testosterone. With only that to go on, I expected the trio’s fourth record, Baby 81, to be a “real” rock album, a swaggering, sexy, take-no-prisoners affair, like the Doors before Jim Morrison got fat, or Aerosmith before they stopped shooting heroin. And this is exactly what BRMC is going for on many of these tunes. Unfortunately, they’re about as real as the Real World-Road Rules Challenge. The opening track, “Took Out A Loan,” features a slinky blues riff that could feasibly support some classic Lizard King moans or Plant-ian screams. But instead of giving the track the raw, live ambience it deserves, the band polishes the living hell out of it. When they bust out the line “I took out a loan on my empty heart,” it sounds ready made for a youth-focused bank commercial. It doesn’t get any less slick from there. “Berlin” is a deflated attempt at Stooges-era punk complete with a throwaway riff, head-scratchingly bad lyrics (i.e. “What happened to the revolution?”) and libido-less “uhs” from the lead singer. The first single, “Weapon Of Choice,” sounds like the Foo Fighters at their worst and the acoustic number “666 Conducer” is, well, a song with the title “666 Conducer.”

Championed by Springsteen and following up the sleeper hit status of 2005’s Alligator, the Brooklyn-via-Cincinnati quintet the National really needed to bring their compositions—which strike at the edges of baroque pop, country balladry, Brit post-punk and singer-songwriter admittance all with a prevailing moodiness—to another level. It is here, with Boxer, that you can bet singer Matt Berninger, along with the two pair of brothers Scott and Bryan Devendorf (guitar and drums, respectively) and Aaron and Bryce Dessner (bass, guitar), have done that and more. The band’s propensity for latenightearlymorning vistas—which have steadily been at the core of their work—are on display and more richly detailed and textured than ever. It’s a subtle yet stunning collection that thrives on a formula of faceted but often emotionally elemental narratives and simply perfectly put together and played songs. A stark piano and Berninger’s richly deep, jagged croon over “Fake Empire” builds to a sweeping, anthemic full band march laden with horns. “Mistaken For Strangers” is a twilight tale where the protagonist walks the streets like a ghost, unknown even to friends in the nighttime hue of the metropolis. “Brainy” delves into stalking, as Berninger sings with dark fixation, “You might need me more than you think you will.” It’s on tracks like “Brainy” and the gripping downbeat pop love song “Apartment Song” that the magnificence of Bryan Devendorf’s drumming is made apparent. He shows the rare combination of meticulousness and blistering passion in his playing that echoes Stephen Morris circa Joy Division. The stirring rush of “Guest Room”—with exquisite arrangement of strings, organ and a spiraling guitar line —is a further sign that the National have upped their ability to piece together this redolent sound. Where other, lesser bands might try to stretch a song as good as “Guest Room” into an opulent, lengthy opus, the National ends it concisely at 3 minutes 20 seconds and you are undoubtedly left wanting more. It’s not a gesture of refining themselves as much as it is truly finding their power. Boxer is easily one of the finest albums this year, and success in 2007 deserves to be in pocket of the National.