If fans of The National were worried that Matt Berninger’s new side project would differ too sharply from the winning formula, then they’ll be quickly reassured by Return to the Moon. For one, Berninger is as concerned with his member as he has ever been. The “cock in hand” that made an appearance in The National’s ‘Karen’ returns in eyebrow-raising fashion on ‘I’m the Man to Be’ as Berninger brags that “I’m peaceful ‘cause my dick’s in sunlight.” Leaving aside any concerns about melanoma, that line is typical of an album that is careful to balance light-hearted musical flourishes with familiar but weird lyrical ideas.

The National have garnered a reputation over the course of their career that most bands would be envious of, yet they could be accused of operating firmly within one sonic template: that of basic, brooding indie rock, always topped by Berninger’s distinctive baritone. Working with Brent Knopf of Menomena seems to have given him license to free up somewhat, as Return to the Moon features an impressive range of sonic ideas. The title track opens the album with a fidgety guitar line, while album centre pieces ‘No Time to Crank the Sun’ and ‘It’s a Game’ offer a welcome change of pace. The hard rocking ‘Happiness, Missouri’ gives Berninger the chance to thunder even more than he usually does; yet none of these songs are so disparate as to harm the album’s consistency. Berninger and Knopf’s success is in creating a collection of songs that surprise and engage the listener, whilst also sounding like they came from the same musical minds.

Lyrically, Berninger sticks to the blueprint of cultural references and Brooklynite angst that would be familiar to anyone like, well, like the lead singer himself. References to Erin Brockovich, The Cramps, Hüsker Dü and The Smiths suggest Berninger is talking both to and about a world where deep cuts from indie culture are an important part of people’s lives. Clearly, if one were expecting Springsteen-esque tales of industrial decline and blue-collar struggle, then this album would be a sore disappointment. Yet Berninger’s real skill as a lyricist is that he turns what could become rather grating namedrops into symbols of surprising emotional depth. ‘It’s a Game’ finds Berninger lamenting that “I’d never been so alone, ‘til I read that the Minutemen were dead”, a line that taps into the feeling of loss that even superficially distant events can evoke. Similarly, Berninger seems to be yearning for a time when music played a greater role in our pop culture in ‘Paul is Alive’, telling us “Beatlemania made my mother.”

Return to the Moon is far from being a real left-turn. It would not be overly reductive to describe it as a playful National album, with Berninger’s humour coming to the fore. For some it might be too conservative, given that the album offered both men the chance to really experiment without the burden that comes with their day jobs. Yet that would be to judge the album for what it is not, which seems rather churlish. Instead, we should take it for what it is: an engaging and accomplished album from one of indie rock’s heavyweights that would more than merit a return trip or indeed, to the moon.