How do you make God laugh?-Make a plan.
This dark joke is reportedly the source of Death Cab for Cutie's new album title and a suitable introduction to their wistful, often morbid sensibility. However, an introduction to the band is becoming less and less necessary.
The Seattle indie rock outfit has become ubiquitous since their breakthrough album, 2003's Transantlanticism. They have been tirelessly name-checked by \The OC's"" Seth Cohen and appeared on last year's Vote for Change Tour. Lead singer Ben Gibbard's side project, The Postal Service, sold a half-million copies of its debut last year. All of this preceded the release of Plans, Death Cab's major label debut. Could this indie darling retain the charm and personal touch that Death Cab's fan base reveres them for?
The album's opening track goes a long way toward answering these questions. ""Marching Bands of Manhattan"" sounds like something out of a Coldplay record, with Gibbard singing to a troubled friend over chiming guitars and a bed of church organs. The track feels epic in the most predictable way, as though it was written to fill stadiums and provide the soundtrack for countless WB dramas. Fans will likely bristle at this, because it is a far cry from the intimate, low-fi beauty of Death Cab's 2000 debut We Have the Facts and We're Voting Yes.
Gibbard's ability to find universal truths over minor topics made Death Cab's earlier albums memorable. Sadly, this songwriting ability is not showcased as well on Plans. Gibbard laments ""the boundaries of language"" on ""Different Names for the Same Thing"", but after several minutes only concludes there are indeed different names for the same thing.
""Crooked Teeth"" marries a promising melody to the clunky chorus ""You can't find nothing at all if there was nothing there all along""-not exactly profound insight.
However, Plans' more subdued moments get it right. Album highlight ""Summer Skin"" finds Gibbard waxing sentimental about a summer romance over haunting synths and martial drums. As the song reaches its crescendo, he sings ""On the night you left I came over, and we peeled the freckles from our shoulders."" He uses the idea of shedding skin as a metaphor for the affair's seasonal nature. It is the kind of metaphor that Chris Martin would give his right hand for, but its presented in a song that's too dark and too painfully truthful for the Coldplays of the world to touch.
Plans' other centerpiece and highlight, ""What Sarah Said,"" drives the album. The song finds Gibbard in a hospital waiting room, visiting a dying lover. As he awaits the news, Gibbard's thoughts pour out in heartbreaking detail, and a gently cascading piano riff mimics his nervous paces. The song is absolutely gorgeous, a meditation on love and death and the unpredictability of life. When Gibbard does finally reveal ""what Sarah said,"" it is a hair-raising experience wrought with emotion. In that moment, most fans will be able to forgive the fact that this isn't Death Cab's strongest effort.
Time will tell whether Death Cab will become the next big thing or remain a cult favorite. But while it is not their strongest effort, Plans lays out an impressive blueprint for their future.
