![]() ![]() No amount of Transcendental Meditation, Pilates, turmeric, rose quartz, direct sunlight, jogging, oat milk, sleep hygiene, or psychoanalysis can fully alleviate that ambient sadness. ![]() For more than two decades, this has been the National’s grist: not the major devastations but the strange little ache that feels like a precondition to being human. The band-which formed in 1999, in Brooklyn-was lampooning its reputation as a font of midlife ennui, the sort of rudderless melancholy that takes hold when a person realizes that the dusty hallmarks of American happiness (marriage, children, a job in an office) aren’t a guarantee against despair. ![]() Last fall, the National débuted a new piece of merchandise: a black zippered sweatshirt featuring the words “ SAD DADS” in block letters. ![]()
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