The buzz started early for first of The National’s highly anticipated shows at the Enmore Theatre; the room was filling up by the time the support act started, and I’d surprised myself by being there to enjoy it. Not only did I make it in one piece to Sydney on the right day, I made it to the right venue, in time to see a beautiful set from The Middle East.

What can you say about The Middle East? And I don’t mean the cultural, political and militant implications of the Palestine-Israeli conflict. The band, originally from Townsville, were unearthed by Triple J and released their eponymous EP in 2009. A few big supports and a radiant live show have taken them from prominent Australian music festivals like Laneway, Splendour In The Grass and Big Day Out to the international stages of Coachella and Latitude.

It’s no mean feat to fill up a space like the Enmore, and big support slots are hard when the audience mostly uses the time to discuss what they had for dinner and their cat’s inconsolable sadness over the Ashes. Nevertheless, their EP made some promises about this band’s potential and I finally got to see the evidence. There’s an Akron Family-esque air that shines through in their rowdier moments, while Mountain Man, Fionn Regan and Patrick Watson creep into the quieter ones. But there is always that sense of melancholy detachment, as though those sad stories are being transmitted from a lonely radio tower in the country.

I haven’t always been a fan of the whistled-chorus: too twee, too shrill, and a painful reminder of my complete inability to join in. But combine it with mandolin, banjo, a Paul Kelly-style spoken word track and a sound I can only describe as ‘Cinematic Orchestra meets-Fleet Foxes in the outback’, I’m willing to let it go.

As I pondered the non-grooming of the steady trickle of roadies on and off the stage, I started to pick up, finally, on the crowd’s anticipation. The National are not what you’d call prolific, an album every two or three years perhaps, and fervent admiration for the band escalating since the release of their 2007 album Boxer.

At last the lights went down, and tensions were raised and released as the silhouetted band walked out followed by vocalist Matt Berninger. A sip from a glass of red and they launched straight into latest album High Violet's "Runaway"; a perfect opener as the horns crept in and the repetitive chorus strangely mirrored the feeling on the floor.

The effortlessly dystopian "Afraid of Everyone" and endearing "Slow Show" both capitalised on the band’s ability to turn the mess of life into something seductive, melancholy and strangely comforting. Their sound was something akin to Joy Division via Smog, with Nick Cave and Interpol both throwing in their two cents. At times the set feels overlong, but that could be the tedium of standing on the spot for many hours with only the company of a Bruce Springsteen fan and an effusive Irishman, both totally hammered.

Much of the set came from the most recent two albums, but frequent calls for older material had Berninger tearing through "Abel" with an unholy yelp, after the green-lit, tongue-in-cheek rendition of the brain-eating "Conversation 16". "Mr. November" was a pleasant surprise in the encore, but "Terrible Love" was the real hero of the night. The first song on the new album yet probably the best to finish the show, Berninger strode off-stage to a steadily punching rhythm that escalated as the crowd held up their martyr (and his infinite microphone lead). He stepped gingerly across a barrier (or people, or security, or something), chanting the chorus until the elated audience steered him back to the stage. Applause. Bow. Exeunt.

Set List:
Runaway
Mistaken For Strangers
Anyone’s Ghost
Slow Show
Afraid Of Everyone
Bloodbuzz Ohio
Lemonworld
Conversation 16
The Sorrow
Abel
Apartment Story
Green Gloves
England
Fake Empire
Vanderlyle Crybaby Geeks

Encore:
Mr November
Terrible Love