Death Cab For Cutie
Plans
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Death Cab For Cutie
Plans
Atlantic, 2005
RiYL: R.E.M., Seam, Nada Surf, "The O.C." |
I begrudged them their wide acclaim after their first two records, which boasted barely three standout tracks between them. But then a funny thing happened. They got more popular, and they got better. I saw them live a few more times, and I realized I liked a lot more of their songs than I thought I did. I still don't understand why they feel the need to pretend that they can't rock out on their studio albums, because they can, and who doesn't like rocking out?
Who'd have thought it, but Plans is their major-label debut, and it's their best album to date. It could sure stand to rock a little harder, but unlike the individually fine tracks on The Photo Album and Transatlanticism, the songs here work well as a whole. You can listen all the way through without getting bored, although you may grow a little nostalgic. Ben Gibbard hasn't completely overcome his tendency to be the most shamelessly saccharine S.O.B. ever to clutch a Telecaster, but if Plans has its precious moments, it doesn't have many cringeworthy ones.
Death Cab has always had a slight tendency towards fussiness, but here they make their concern with precision an asset, as they take their trademark strands of single-line instruments and reshuffle them in unexpected ways.
"Summer Skin" coasts quite nicely on a showy bass lick by the usually restrained Nick Harmer, while the relatively fast-paced "Crooked Teeth" is well-served by a mechanical drumbeat and a Roger McGuinn-via-Spiral Stairs 12-string. The excellent "Different Names For The Same Thing" attempts to blend Gibbard's slowcore roots with the electropop tinge of his Postal Service side project and damn near pulls it off.
Throughout, guitarist/keyboardist Chris Walla produces with admirable restraint. It's always tempting for new major-label signees to go overboard their first time in a big studio (see Modest Mouse), but Plans is less of an upgrade from Transatlanticism than a polishing of it. As a result there's nothing here that screams crossover hit (the single, "Soul Meets Body," is actually one of the record's weaker tracks), but I've been wrong about these things before.
It's not all perfect. "Your Heart Is An Empty Room" falls upon some of Gibbard's old bad habits as a lyricist, and the little electric guitar interjections and tinny piano interludes sound like U2 at their laziest.
The best thing about Plans is, however, out of the blue, a campfire song. "I Will Follow You Into the Dark," just Gibbard and acoustic guitar, is simple and lovely. The vocal is pleasantly imperfect and the lyrics are terrific. To be honest, I didn't think Gibbard had it in him. I'm always pleased to have my expectations more than met, and this is one of the better records of the year so far. Give it to your little sister for the holidays.
MARK T.R. DONOHUE | Mark T.R. Donohue is a prolific freelance writer whose areas of expertise include Rockies baseball, video games, genre television, English soccer, and pub rock. He lives in Colorado, where he cultivates the largest and creepiest private collection of Alyson Hannigan memorabilia in the Mountain West.