Codes and Keys
It's hard for me to figure out exactly when
Death Cab achieved old guy indie hipster status. Call it adult
contemporary hip (like their brethren The
Decemberists) or non-offensive contemporary indie rock.
I'd hate to think it was mostly based off Ben Gibbard’s side
project, The Postal Service's,
popularity, but that may be just it. Looking back on a time
when all I had was their first couple albums, I thought, now
here's a band that should be more popular than they are. And
I got my wish (or at least fulfilled a thought). It seems each
album has one slight rock radio hit, but they've never be what
I call huge level a la Coldplay,
Radiohead and even later day Muse.
I mean they play to larger audiences, but seldom have I heard
them namechecked or even mentioned as "my favorite band" the
way these others often are. This latest album probably won't
do them any favors in terms of winning a new, expanded audience,
as it seems to really live inside its own head. I'm not sure
if it's the production or the song/music writing, but there's
this weird feedback loop in all the songs that makes them feel
at once both claustrophobic and distant. Like when you talk
with a serious headcold; you can hear your own voice inside
your head and everyone else sounds like they're talking to you
from Mars. It's frustrating and offputting to say the least.
I think they were going for the warm blanket thing here, but
in doing so they've muted some of the best parts of the band
and created a lot of sameness from song to song in terms of
mid-tempo patter and delivery. There's no down stroke on the
guitar, no bite really anywhere on the album, nothing to get
a foothold in all the mushiness. It's like eating a meal that
tastes good after the first couple bites, but lacks any kind
of solid crack or snap that breaks up the texture and makes
bite five different than bite two. It may taste okay, but is
missing something. And like a lot of their albums, there is
one, maybe two stand out songs (in this case the first single,
"You Are a Tourist" and perhaps "Monday Morning") while the
rest kind of just lie there. |
Forbidden Love ep
This thing was sandwiched between We
Have the Facts and The Photo Album LPs, and it
kind of shows. It has a couple alternative versioned tracks
from We Have the Facts, and then three new tracks that
show a grounding in the their second album but a playfulness
that really doesn't blossom until The Photo Album.
EPs always kind of piss me off anyway. Just save it for the
real thing if you're gonna bother. |
Narrow Stairs
Yet another shift for these guys seemed inevitable
after the general malaise of "Plans." If they got any more comfortable
we might have had to book them a room at the "home." One can
tell that there is indeed something afoot after only the first
in-your-face swirling prog rock of "Bixby Canyon Bridge."
Play this space rock on The
O.C., biatches! Oh, and then try playing our eight-minute
second track with its 4.5 minute intro and creepy stalker lyrics
(which, by the way, happens to be the lead single) on your trendy
The
Hills show, MTV! All of a sudden these guys are off their
happy meds and spiraling into somewhere dark and murky. Now
that's a good Pacific Northwesterner. The album goes on to track
after track of pretty non-commercial stuff. Gibbard seems to
have a lot on his mind and in a lot of cases tries to cram a
multitude of ideas and words into tight spaces. The songs are
decidedly unstructured and meandering and missing that that
little upturn in spirit that usually embodies their albums.
Instead there's a sense of the grief cycle being played out
as you move through the album: denial, anger, bargaining, depression,
and acceptance. It's somehow akin to the latest Stephen
Malkmus album, Real Emotional Trash, in that it
may not immediately grab you with short, sweet pop tunes, but
somewhere in the swirl and drone there is a great deal of depth
and artistry going on. |
Photo Album
I like that they tried some different tempos
and rock-ness on this album. There were certainly times on the
first two when pretty became sleepy became downright depressing.
I especially like the venomous ode to Los Angeles, "Why'd You
Want to Live There." It makes me totally not miss my
hometown. This is another solid album, but feels like Gibbard,
in trying to stretch his wings a little, may have lost some
of the core personality and enveloping goodness of We Have
the Facts. It does inform some of the faster, poppier stuff
that would come after it. Good but not great. |
Plans
What would they do as a follow-up? Popular
indie bands moving to major labels after whoring themselves
out on every teeny-bopper TV show on earth, and almost being
eclipsed by the lead's side-project can lead to all sorts of
awfulness. They start this thing off strong, with one of my
favorite songs on any of their albums, "Marching Bands of Manhattan."
It almost sounds like a throwback to We Have the Facts.
Granted, we can tell from note one that this is going to be
different in its approach, all layered chiming guitars and sounds
and varying instrumentation, all of which was absent on their
huge breakthrough album, Transatlanticism. There's
one song in there I swear was launching into a later R.E.M.
song--although I'm not quite sure why. It just seems to me that
they got complacent real fast with this album--went to the grandma
rocking chair a little quickly. Why drop any of the tenacity
just because you're older and wiser? The biggest song on the
album, "I Will Follow You…" is an All Shook Down Replacements
era acoustic ballad fer god's sake (but much more sober). It's
not that this is a tragedy, but groundbreaking it isn't. It's
a pretty album with some bright spots, but it's a big come down
in almost every aspect after the brilliance of the record right
before it. |
Something About Airplanes
This was my first experience with Death Cab.
As well it should be, as it's their debut album. Being a fan
of Built to Spill, someone
suggested I take a listen to these guys. At first the whole
thing seemed a little gloomy to me. I’m not sure what else to
expect from rainy Washington state. It took multiple listens,
but the amazing quality of the music created a mood that tends
to stick with you for quite a while—even if it has a somewhat
sad pall. A lot of this is due to the production quality with
its echoey approach that kind of masks everything in a sheen
of dreaminess. Also the effect of Ben Gibbard’s weepy Beach
Boys vocals makes this album just a tinge too sad for me
to listen to on a regular basis. Save it for a rainy day. |
Transatlanticism
It seems the time working with the relatively
minimalist Postal Service
project has given Ben Gibbard the swing-for-the-fences attitude
on the similarly timed Death Cab release. Right out of the gates
on "The New Year" the music bursts and swells and
delivers a wallop. The rest of the album doesn't continue on
this grandiose scale, but actually dials it back, strips it
down and feels more intimate in its composition than anything
before it. A lot of this is due to Gibbard's personal, lovelorn
lyrics a la a sunnier Elliot Smith
(could anybody not be sunnier), as well as the amazing
listenability the music affords through its clean and up front
production. As a sum of its parts, this is by far their best
album. From beginning to end, the thing just feels like a story
being told. A sad but ultimately hopeful story filled with life's
tragedies and triumphs. Despite my cliched descriptions, it
was this album that launched this band into the indie rock atmosphere
and made the band with the stupid name (thanks Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah
Band) the name that was on everybody's hipster lips. |
We Have the Facts and We're Voting
Yes
This one formed the base for what was to
become the band that toppped the charts. This is the album that
really solidified the Death Cab sound, from Gibbard’s uniquely
melancholy melodies to the excellent production to the great
pop sensibility. This is a way superior album to their debut
and includes some real stunners. My favorite song is "Company
Calls," which shows that these guys aren’t all rainy days
and boo-hoos. The thing manages to completely keep their aesthetic
in place but still put some muscle behind the music. I’d hate
to say they peaked early, but this is easily one of my favorite
albums of theirs. |
Musical Connections:
The Postal
Service
|
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