When you’ve seen a band play live 34 times, they can only surprise you so much. Not only do you know the recorded songs intimately, but the nuances of how they perform them live: the singer’s rakish gestures, the guitarists’ live-wire body language, the unexpected moments of violence. But on the second of two nights at Alexandra Palace last week, the National played an entirely different set to the one I had seen the night before: no repeated songs across a performance that lasted two and a half hours.
I had also been to see them in Dublin a week prior, so this set took me into the eighth hour of seeing them live in seven days. Yet, knowing that they had dispensed with most of the hits on Tuesday, on Wednesday I felt like a spoilt kid on Christmas morning as they finished each song: what could possibly come next? They played a sizeable chunk of the 2004 Cherry Tree EP; the furiously bitter Available from their second album, 2003’s Sad Songs for Dirty Lovers; my beloved Lemonworld; songs from their classic albums Alligator and Boxer that I hadn’t heard live in for ever. It was electrifying.
National fans aren’t the only ones being plunged into the rarities vault recently. Last week, Arctic Monkeys gave the increasingly popular song Hello You, from The Car, its live debut in response to fan demand. On their first night at the Las Vegas Sphere this weekend, U2 ferreted into the Achtung Baby tracklist for the first time in 30 years. Pavement have been digging into their back catalogue, playing the likes of Loretta’s Scars, Maybe Maybe and Elevate Me Later live. In London this summer the Strokes brought out the Juicebox song Hawaii for the first time since 2006. In February, Bruce Springsteen played If I Was the Priest for the first time since 1972. LCD Soundsystem played Beat Connection and Call the Police during their Brixton residency last year; Blur, Neil Young, the Cure, Slipknot, Guns N’ Roses, Iron Maiden and Rammstein have all been at it too.
These are all legacy bands with sizeable catalogues who could easily coast on the hits if they wanted to (although Springsteen’s recent tour was otherwise unusually consistent for a man given to switching it up). That they’re choosing not to speaks to a level of enthusiasm and commitment that bears out on stage – I don’t think I’ve ever seen the National look as happy at a gig, and that is perhaps saying something – and flatters the hardcore, who feel rewarded for their loyalty and investment. It resists instant gratification and the TikTokification of music to acknowledge: we built this thing together. Though perhaps this would be less viable without modern practical realities. Streaming has made the weirder bits of an artist’s catalogue widely available – Pavement’s most popular song on Spotify is the obscurity Harness Your Hopes, Arctic Monkeys’ 505 is more popular with teenagers than calling card I Bet You Look Good on the Dancefloor – meaning you can roll out a B-side without worry of only reaching the fans who bought the CD single way back when. It’s also a relatively reliable route to an easy bit of publicity as music news websites aggregate fan footage of the moment.
Naturally, the most headline-making setlist surprises this year have come from Taylor Swift, who is performing two secret songs on each night of her epic Eras tour. Her avid fans have calculated that with just 47 unplayed tracks from her catalogue to go, she will run out during her Singapore jaunt next March (though the “From the Vault” tracks to be released alongside her three remaining re-recorded albums will buy her more time). Making controversy-free headlines is, presumably, part of the point for a media-hungry superstar – though the highly regimented production of a mammoth pop show means there’s only so much things can shift night after night. The surprise songs let her have it both ways: at some point in the past five years, Swift and many other superstars clocked that the smartest thing they could do is behave like a cult act – like many of the aforementioned alternative bands bringing out the rarities – by playing directly to the people who love you.
I’ve argued before that knowing exactly what’s going to happen at a gig isn’t an impediment to enjoying it and can even contribute to the delight of obsessive fans. But having no idea what to expect is an even greater thrill: the notion that you might hear that one weird song that means the world to you, even revitalising a past self; that your favourite band is as alive and alert to the richness of their back catalogue as you are – remember the joys of finally hearing the deep cuts Kohoutek and Harborcoat on REM’s Live at the Olympia in unprecedented lyrical clarity. It’s an acknowledgment of how much time, money and effort people spend to get to a gig these days.
The trend also flies counter to an increasingly predictable cultural landscape where IP is harvested to within an inch of its life across multiple mediums, most blockbuster films are brand extensions, remakes or sequels, and the risk-averse publishing industry often seeks to replicate its last big success. Pop is far from immune: there’s a tedious version of fan service where musicians just affirm the demands of entitled followers to avoid risking their wrath, like Swift releasing a version of the Midnights song Snow on the Beach with Lana Del Rey’s guest vocals made slightly more prominent. Unpredictable setlists redress the power balance while still pleasing both parties.
Seeing musicians sideline the hits tells their story in a different way, one less beholden to critical or commercial approval, and affirms the profound personal connection their fans share with them. Recently I’ve felt as vacant and untethered as frontman Matt Berninger sings about being on the National’s beautiful pair of 2023 albums, First Two Pages of Frankenstein and Laugh Track. That sense of heightened anticipation I felt in London reminded me of what it felt like to be present again, to reawaken to beauty’s potential.
• Have you been delighted by any rarities at recent shows? What deep cut would you most like to hear by your favourite artists? Let us know in the comments.
