Death Cab for Cutie
Plans

THE REVIEW

My regards to the entire DeCommunity.. my return here en travesti (with a new nickname paying homage to Joni Mitchell) is entirely dedicated to the analysis of Plans, the fourth full-length by the band led by Ben Gibbard. The first album released under the aegis of a major, a record considered by many as "transitional," but for me represents a true surrogate of the musical attitude of these four Americans in question.

My acquaintance with Death Cab began with the classic "who the hell are these guys??" pronounced on a day not too long ago when this band's name came up in a conversation on last.fm (what I was doing on last.fm is a great mystery). The first track from Plans that I listened to, and the one to which I must admit I am tremendously attached, is the single "Soul Meets Body," which brings the good Gibbard's lyrics to the forefront and a very strange almost summery atmosphere. A song that is synonymous with melodic punctuality, promptly interrupted by the chords of "Summer Skin," driven by the distinctive drumming and the first "alliterated" verses of the piece: "squeaky swings and tall grass/the longest shadows ever cast." Promises evidently broken, gone to hell, and at least grotesque promises that are read in "I Will Follow You Into the Dark," which also marks the return of the acoustic guitar as a metronome for the frontman's voice, on which I have yet to develop a complete evaluation. The arpeggios of the chorus of "Someday You Will Be Loved" leave space at the end for the very brief - all too brief! - hint of the guitar's distortion effect. You can still feel the game of hi-hat and snare that is often difficult to distinguish but that in "Brothers on a Hotel Bed" imposes itself as the only way of accessing the piece, as a path to follow to understand that ultimately this song won't take you anywhere, but it's the journey - allow me the cliché - that matters. There are only a few insignificant pieces in this record, "Crooked Teeth" for example, which any American teenage band could have written.

An album that is pleasant to listen to, with guitars that travel clattering on an original track of evident dissatisfaction and crazy desire to write, to tell what makes us want to sing every time.