The National delivers a night of arena-sized rock

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The National At the Air Canada Centre in Toronto on Thursday

Matt Berninger, the bearded, baritone singer of the National, looked onto the unlikely configuration in front of him, which was a quarter-bowl "theatre" set-up, in the place where Maple Leafs often skate and Raptors sometimes jump. Guitarist Bryce Dessner had just observed, "This is the first time we've ever played a hockey arena." To which Berninger mumbled something about the event being auspicious. A fellow behind me heard it differently. "It is suspicious," he remarked.

So, which was it: suspicious or auspicious? How about a little of both.

The band, a moody-music-making quintet from Brooklyn by way of Cincinnati, has toured hard and successfully since the release of its fifth album, High Violet. In the summer of 2010, the National, with its sublimely rocked sullenness and majestically presented mope, gobsmacked a pair of sold-out crowds at Massey Hall. Here it is back again, stepping up to a bigger room still – growing its audience, intriguingly without benefit of commercial rock radio (a declining format).

During the encore of a 20-song, 100-minute triumph, Berninger stalked into the stands, his microphone cord stretched like a slack telephone wire behind him. "It's a terrible love that I'm walking with," he intoned. "It's quiet company."

His audience wasn't quiet, though the interesting collection of collegians and fortysomethings stood only in small batches and intermittingly. (An older chap in section 121 wore a gaudy Red Wings jersey – who wears a hockey sweater to a National show?)

Things got interesting when Berninger, flashing his "all-access pass," implored people in the seats to come down to the area in front of the stage. Due to safety regulations, the floor was restricted to just a few fans. Within minutes of the front man's invitation, the space was swollen full. Security guards let the people-flood happen, though they insisted that aisles be kept open. "I broke some rules," Berninger apologized. "I'm sorry, I know I started it."

The set list drew mostly from 2010's High Violet. Adding a soft stateliness to the seductive brooding were a pair of brass players. Later, Toronto indie-music violinist Owen Pallett added more texture.

The stirring show began with Runaway, a simmering ballad that brought to mind a wonderful place between Leonard Cohen and Gord Downie. "Go ahead, go ahead," Berninger suggested, his emotion dry. "Throw your arms in the air tonight … lose our shirts in the fire tonight."

I don't think anyone lost their tops – light purple T-shirts were going for $25, not-so-high violet – but there was a time when a band like the National would be playing to bigger, wilder crowds. As the group winds down its long-running tour, one wonders if the National will ever make it to full arenas. Attention to rock music now, compared to decades ago, is much more diffuse. Radio doesn't focus what gets noticed any more – it's social media these days, not mass.

Marshall McLuhan said that the medium is the message. On the elegant mope of Conversation 16, Berninger said "everything means everything." And now everything is less monolithic – smaller scale. The message has been made medium. I said that.

It's too bad. The world can use arena-sized rock bands. The National, a great band, deserves to be one. My suspicion is that it won't happen.

After playing Montreal's Bell Centre on Friday, the National has a tour-ending run of five sold-out shows at New York's Beacon Theatre.