Success is a relatively subjective term, and what defines it, tends to depend on what is at stake. For Death Cab For Cutie, what is at stake with the release of their first studio album, is their critical reputation and more importantly, their relentless indie following, who has pursued the band like a cross-eyed crush for the past seven years. With Plans, they attempt to attain success on two planes. The title alone suggests that indie fandom is all well and fine, but there’s no harm in checking out what other, big, fat plans this world’s got in store for them.
With the album, the group does not gravely depart from the sound that has brought them this far. There is still the transcendental quality that defines their sound. There are still Ben Gibbard’s emotive lyrics. There are still fresh arrangements. And there is still backbone. One doesn’t necessarily need to know going in that the band produced the album on their own terms, it is evident in the music.
To be sure, there are some glossier, plastic-wrapped tracks, like “Crooked Teeth,” but to suggest that Death Cab’s first major label release is a sell-out to the masses would be a hurtful injustice to the group, who seemingly just want more good people to hear their good music.
The first single, “Soul Meets Body,” for which there will be an accompanying video, gasp (!), is a terribly thoughtful introduction, with an enticing melody and oddly satisfying hook. In comparison to Transatlanticism, the album forsakes heavier, experimental songs in favor of subtler ballads. The melodies are simpler overall and less edgy, but that could be attributed to the group’s more mellow palate. The most familiar song on the album is the wistful “Brothers on a Hotel Bed,” while the greatest departure, though it hardly is, could be “What Sarah Said,” which begins with an off-guard piano solo that becomes the theme throughout the song.
Though there are no outright weaknesses on the album, there is no breakout sensation either. The band’s stronghold to their sound is admirable, but also frustrating for those familiar with the band, and starving for a heart reverberating masterpiece. The album is safer than the previous two, but for anyone but Death Cab, it could very well be considered fairly innovative.
Perhaps the band inadvertently addresses the dichotomy they faced in making this album, in their very own song lyrics: “But even at our swiftest speed/ We couldn't break from the concrete/ And the city where we still reside.” Whether this album becomes the catalyst that makes this strangely named band a strange household name remains to be seen, but it won’t be because Death Cab was blinded by success. If nothing else, this album is a testament to a band that, for the most part, guarded their music, and integrity, despite the bright lights. |