Some Songs Considered

“Crooked Teeth” – Death Cab for Cutie
(Words/music: Ben Gibbard and Chris Walla, available on Plans, Atlantic 2005) 

Some songs ride one exceptional part straight on through greatness.  Whether it’s a spectacular hook or a clever lyric or even a great bridge, great songs usually have one specific part (at least) that elevates it into the next level.  Sometimes, however, a song gets by with just a lot of good parts rather than one or two great ones.  If these songs were an athletic team, then the post-game interview would lean heavily on the phrase “team effort.”  That’s not too far off with a song like “Crooked Teeth” – even without a single “great part,” it’s still one of my favorites. 

Before this becomes a series of backhanded compliments, let me clarify; “Crooked Teeth” represents a lot of the things I love about Death Cab for Cutie.  It finds the balance between being catchy and running its melody into the ground.  The lyrics are quirky and endearing, and the overall performance is tight.  I guess my point is that a lot of the band’s songs do these things and “Crooked Teeth” does none of these better than others.  It’s not as dynamic as “The New Year” nor as urgent as “We Looked Like Giants.”  Even Ben Gibbard’s imagery isn’t as strong as it is at other times (nor is it as grating and head-scratchingly annoying as it is at others).  Even if “Crooked Teeth” isn’t the first Death Cab for Cutie song I’d think of playing, I’m always glad by the time the hook comes around. 

More on Death Cab for Cutie: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm

“The District Sleeps Alone Tonight” – The Postal Service
(Words: Ben Gibbard, Music: The Postal Service, available on Give Up, Sub Pop 2003)

When talking about the Postal Service, it’s easy to get lost in the details, whether it’s the band’s back story or just the instruments used to create the recording. That discuss is fine and has a place, but it shouldn’t be the end of the discussion, and too often with a band like this – one that can be boiled down to its relationships and gimmicks – the substance gets shortchanged. For example, the beeps alone don’t make these songs speak to so many of us; if that was the case, anyone with a drum machine or a Casio synthesizer could get a record deal. Instead, I’m more interested in how these details fit together – specifically, how the process impacted the songs.

“The District Sleeps Alone Tonight” works so well because the adornments fit into the song’s structure perfectly. Around the same time as Give Up’s release, Ben Gibbard started writing grander songs for Death Cab for Cutie. “District,” despite Tamborello’s programming, remains relatively simple, with the chords held just long enough to create a sullen background for Gibbard’s late night meditation on loneliness. Jenny Lewis’ backing vocals add another texture to the verses, but that’s generally it. It’s the programming – the electronic beat and beeps – that sell the mood. Whether the electronic treatment gives it the feel of a late night illuminated only by an LCD screen, or it’s simply the short, clipped sounds created by the technology, but the song creates the sound of a quiet night lit up only by a racing mind. It’s hard to imagine some of Gibbard’s anthems getting this treatment. Instead, the Postal Service project needed songs that made the most of the available tools and, more importantly, used the tools to make itself better.

More on The Postal Service: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm

“(This is) The Dream of Evan and Chan” – Dntel
(Words: Ben Gibbard, Music: Dntel, available on Life is Full of Possibilities, Plug Research 2001)

I’ve found that when I remember my dreams (I’m not really sure how often I do dream vividly, because I don’t always remember my dreams), they are usually tales of the mundane.  I’ve had many instances of déjà vu – the type of dreams so general and broad that they can probably apply to dozens of situations.  Regardless, there’s a definitive romance to the idea of dreaming about your own life and having it come true; it’s just usually in the concept of the extraordinary becoming reality.  Few people (that I know of, at least) talk about having dreams about everyday life, probably because everyday life is boring (or, perhaps “anti-idealistic” at least, as we’re quick to equate dreams with idealism).  Still, there’s a sense of bizarre empowerment to the idea that one’s dreams come true, even if the dreams are of random, mundane tasks and the whole concept of déjà vu are, to some, nothing more than synapses firing off in a certain predisposed sequence.

That being said, I’ve rarely had dreams about famous people, as Death Cab for Cutie’s Ben Gibbard details in Dntel’s “(This is) the Dream of Evan and Chan”, describing a dream where he pictured Evan Dando of the Lemonheads and Chan Marshall of Cat Power together.  Gibbard and Jimmy Tamborello, the same duo that would later go on to record together as The Postal Service, create the perfect dreamscape for an electro-pop song.  Tamborello starts the track with a highly rhythmic static track that gradually gives way to a computerized beat and floating synthesizer that dominates most of the track.  As with most of the best Postal Service tracks, Gibbard’s voice takes center stage.  His everyman croon floats on top of Tamborello’s tightly programmed drums, detailing the different aspects of his dream within a dense wall of drums, synth, and static.

It’s no wonder than Tamborello and Gibbard struck gold together on the Give Up album; Tamborello’s distinctive production and Gibbard’s sweet and sappy vocals play off of the best parts of each other.  Even when Gibbard falls victim to his over-emotive clichés, Tamborello manages to shift our attention away from those cringe-worthy clichés that Death Cab for Cutie occasionally delve into towards an entrancing beat.  Even after Gibbard details his dream, the thirty repetitions of the word “ringing” at the end of the song (plus more fading out into the background) wouldn’t fit in a traditional indie-pop structure.  However, in “(This is) The Dream of Evan and Chan”, the repetitive ringing becomes the jarring sound of the phone that wakes us from that perfect dream that we don’t want to relinquish.  The song continues for another two minutes, desperately trying to recreate the perfect conditions where dreaming is possible, but just like those early mornings where the alarm jars us from our imaginative oasis, the song fades away, foregoing the land of dreams to the world of reality.

Even though I like the Postal Service album, I’ve always held an afinity for this track, perhaps because it’s a bit rougher (or at least much more static-laden), or perhaps because I think the Gibbard-Tamborello team his something special with this track by offering a brief glimpse into the world of the subconscious.  There’s a few gems (and I’m sure I’ll write about at least one of them) on Give Up, but nothing that recreates the frenetic dream-fueled energy of this song.

More on Dntel: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm