A Week With Death Cab For Cutie's "Narrow Stairs": Day 3
30 July 2008
tell your friends...
Words by Tony Conte // Illustration by Erica Parrott
Despite, or maybe because of, the relatively complex topics that Death Cab tackles in its music, the amazing feat that Narrow Stairs achieves is its uniquely incandescent sound.
Let’s put aside the very subtle change that Mr. Gibbard’s voice has undertaken since the last album. Try to ignore that it sounds more fragile in its imperfections and that it’s these imperfections (often heard as recorded without any evident doctoring) that sharpen the emotional edge of his words. Let’s honor with a nod of gratitude the “less is more” mentality which Chris Walla has obviously imposed in producing this album.
Now let’s focus on the band’s masterful genre-hopping stint mid-album on “You Can Do Better Than Me”. For the first time that I’m aware, the band test the waters with a little tune faintly reminiscent of late 50’s doo-wop. You heard me right: Doo-wop.
To be clear, let’s do some math. It’s the “doo-wop” sound minus the distinct vocal stylings (which…uh…define the genre) plus what sounds remarkably like a calliope multiplied by a steadily galloping rhythym not unlike the horses on a carousel.
And if this cheery backdrop sounds like it might be a better fit as an interlude on the newest They Might Be Giants kid’s album, then the lyrics will probably change your mind:
“I’m starting to feel we stay together out of fear of dying alone.”
The lyrics are a relentless roundabout of doubts circling the merit of a long-standing relationship. Falling in and out of love, the narrator comes to a number of unsettling conclusions.
“I fall in love every day and I feel like a fool and I have to face the truth that no one could ever look at me like you do. Like I’m something worth holding on to.”
It’s an honesty so unemcumbered with alterior motive, so true to it’s speaker.
This is what DCFC brings to the table: while other bands might rely on the easy cynicism of their youth, indie-elders-cum-major-labelers DCFC take on the challenge of terrifyingly bare introspection with verve.
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“Let’s put aside the very subtle change that Mr. Gibbard’s voice has undertaken since the last album…more fragile in its imperfections…that sharpen the emotional edge of his words.” Yesss! That’s it! That’s what I’ve been desperately attempting to verbalize when extolling this album’s virtues! Thank you. (Also, check out DCFC covering “Earth Angel” on the “Stubbs the Zombie- The Soundtrack” for a little doo-wop)