Tuesday, September 06, 2005

another tiny prayer to Father Time

Plans is the new album from Death Cab For Cutie. It's not being given the credit I think it deserves, presumably because it is the major-label debut of an established indie emo-pop group. No one is really bashing it (except people who obviously shouldn't be reviewing such material in the first place) but no one's quite singing its praises either. More or less the reaction across the board is a resigned "meh" of approval. This kind of apathy is disheartening but not unsurprising from professional critics who have to come up with something interesting to say in order to earn their living. As an alternative to world-weary criticism, I'm opening up my wordhole and exposing my earnest and embarrassingly naive opinions on music et al. I have an absolute commitment to better living through art and music and I stubbornly refuse to become jaded. That's about as close as you'll get to a manifesto out of me.

Some have compared Plans to X & Y, in an attempt to write it off as another fluffily soothing bit of background music with a crooning vocalist who writes esteem-boosting lyrics for his sensitive, primarily female audience. There might be some truth to that, but I think it's too facile. For one thing, while you won't catch me knocking Coldplay here, and I was very pleasantly surprised by their new album, Ben Gibbard makes Chris[t] Martin look like Robert Frost.

The poet analogy is deliberate, because some reviewers have been less than kind to some of Ben's writing on this album. But let's face it: in a world where critics quote Ashlee Simpson lyrics as though they were worth pondering over, at least he's trying to sing something memorable. And if he does err on the side of preciousness at times (e.g. the title of this post, which I have to admit I actually like), the lyrics are never less than solid and the imagery and subject matter is complemented nicely by the somber, polished arrangements. Speaking of which, an aside: I'm not one of those people who thinks great songwriting has to be accompanied by sonic murk -- perhaps because I listen to so much classical music. Yes, I'm a nerd. Yes, I'm one of those people who listens to Steely Dan and sings along with the guitar solos. And I realize that by admitting as much I've negated the value of my opinions for a good percentage of people out there. But don't say that you weren't warned!

To return to the subject at hand, Ben comes up with a few zingers throughout Plans. "What Sarah Said" conjures up a scene with which most of us are familiar, sitting in the hospital waiting room "that reeked of piss and 409," setting up a one-liner that made me smile: "And I looked around at all the eyes on the ground as the TV entertained itself." And in "Marching Bands of Manhattan" he picks up a familiar image (also used on the previous album, Transatlanticism):

Sorrow drips into your heart through a pinhole
Just like a faucet that leaks and there is comfort in the sound...

Comforting sounds are prevalent in Plans. Throughout, Ben Gibbard sounds comfortable enough with his own voice that he could pull off the old cliche and make the phonebook sound meaningful if he sang it. Since the sonic world in which that voice resides consists mainly of acoustic instruments, with lots of piano and organ along with the guitars, you may find as I do that this album sounds more like home than your actual home.

On the other hand, "Different Names For the Same Thing" has a deceptively old-fashioned piano/vocal intro, after which the song is rearranged and reharmonized to sound more like a Postal Service track -- lyrically the song is practically a haiku in its brevity, but musically the sense is of starting a lonely journey and arriving somewhere quite different, in a mood of elation, as though a battle has been fought and won, somewhere offstage.

I often think that the type of music we like reflects who we are as people. Your enjoyment of Death Cab For Cutie, and indeed the whole emo genre, probably is a good indicator of your level of introversion. If you're quiet and shy and spend a lot of time alone like I do, you'll probably find it easy to like this album. If your idea of a good time is club-hopping or you work in sales, Plans should be reserved for post-hangover recovery time only.

I'd appreciate feedback on this, my first review. FYI, I had to pee almost the entire time I was writing this. And I'm at work. So I have no idea if what I'm writing makes any sense, really.

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