What does a cult band do when they have major commercial success with an album and are danger of revealing their secret to the masses? They come back with something different of course. Not quite but Death Cab For Cutie have got to that R.E.M. stage which could see them playing their unique blend of emo and indie rock in huge stadia around the world. But success is what you make it. The band’s last album Plans got them noticed and before that, the wonderful Transatlanticism was lauded by fans and critics as a huge leap forward from the promising doldrums of the first few albums. But ultimately Plans was a bit of let down. It is a great album but at times it settles into a cruising gear and goes through the motions. Death Cab For Cutie are in danger of getting boring. Narrow Stairs avoids this premonition by fusing trademark lyrics and vocals, typical melody and depth, with a subtly different approach.Opener Bixby Canyon Bridge has all the elements of a great DCFC song. A soft quiet start brings in Ben Gibbard’s statesmanlike vocals, an instrument in its own right. Followed by a simple guitar loop melody, there are echoes of Marching Bands Of Manhattan but the song gets heavier, the vocals more distorted. It is clear from this that the music will take a different approach. At nearly three minutes the song disintegrates completely into a repetitive mess of fuzzy guitars and crashing drums. This fills the remaining two minutes and is clearly overlong self-indulgence. The last thirty seconds, with Gibbard back for an encore, is horrible.
After a dodgy start, something very interesting happens. At eight and a half minutes I Will Possess Your Heart starts with a massive instrumental. Talk about alienating your audience. Lead by delicious bass, the piano and guitars echo each other as if starting a conversation, the music building into a wondrous atmospheric soundtrack. Four and a half minutes in and Gibbard appears, clear and direct: ’How I wish you could see the potential, the potential of you and me. It’s like a book elegantly bound but in a language that you can’t read. You gotta spend some time, love. You gotta spend some time with me. And I know that you’ll find love. I will possess your heart’. Like all great DCFC songs - and this is right up there with the best - it sounds effortless and simple, as piano and guitar blend with Gibbard’s vocals. What makes it so effecting is the lack of defined verse-verse-chorus structure. The effect is horribly uneasy, part devoted lover and part creepy stalker homing in on the prey. It is important to note that there are two versions of I Will Possess Your Heart, one with and one without the instrumental start. This makes sense as eight minute songs rarely get played on radio, but you can help feeling cynical. The single version feels a lot more like a complete song and not just a concept but the effect is the same.
No Sunlight is equally dark (metaphorically not literally) in tone but musically upbeat - more of formulaic pop song. Again Gibbard is magnificent, but the music has immense depth. Consistently you get the impression that everything DCFC create is finely crafted and arranged and this is no exception. Gibbard’s lyrics are sparse as he talks about the innocent and naivety of youth, but goes on to shatter the illusion: ‘And it disappeared at the same speed. As the idealistic things I believed. When the optimist died inside of me’. It then gets vague and contrived: ‘With a man who hides from all that binds in a mess of fading lines. With a tangled thread inside his head with nothing on either end’. Unlike the music, it sounds like any old lyric has been thrown in.
Cath… recounts the story of a women succumbing to an ill-fated marriage, driven along by lifting guitars and Gibbard’s voice, softening for. ‘But you said your vows and you closed the door . On so many men who would’ve loved you more’. But the line: ‘When your heart was dying fast and you didn’t know what to do’ is a bit of a mouthful, not quite fitting into the musical gap. Talking Bird is desperately slow, a plodding dirge empty of any discernable melody. But the words make the song: ‘It’s hard to see your way out when you live in a house in a house. ‘Cause you don’t realize that the windows were open the whole time’ and ‘And it’s all here for you as long as you chose to stay. It’s all here for you as long as you don’t fly away’ are genius. You Can Do Better Than Me has a bizarre musical arrangement but in a brief two minutes, is a very recognisable DCFC song. There are some neat touches like the harmonies at the end of ’And I have to face the truth that no one could ever look at me like you do. Like I’m something worth holding on to’. The very end puts an interesting twist on the song title: ‘…you can do better than me but I can’t do better than you’. Again the effect is a bit creepy.
This leads quickly into Grapevine Fires, another great song, with some wonderful harmonies, about a very specific moment in time and how it effects specific people. It is another song of contrast - sweet delicate music and vocals but a harsh subject. The line: ‘The news reports on the radio said it was getting worse as the ocean air fanned the flames. But I couldn't think of anywhere I would have rather been to watch it all burn away’ is dripping with arrogance and selfishness. It ends in shocking style with ‘The firemen worked in double shifts with prayers for rain on their lips and they knew it was only a matter if time’ as the story never gets fully resolved.
One thing that DCFC can do is transform a melodrama into an epic story, usually around a single object or person. This might be dissecting things a bit to much but it works for Fountains Of Wayne, albeit from a different angle. Your New Twin Sized Bed is simply brilliant. The way that pictures form as Gibbard recalls the desperate abandonment of a double bed for a smaller one as, in his words, ‘I guess you decided that that old queen was more space than you would need’ and ‘….what’s the point of holding on to what never gets used’ and then graphically ‘Other than a sick desire for self abuse‘. The end of the song doesn’t really fit with the rest but makes it more personal.
Long Division attempts to glide along with fast guitars but it could be accused of being a bit too much of the formula that washed through much of Plans. Unlike the start of the album, this is a bit too safe and polished. But there is a catchy well sung chorus - of just one word and a great last minute. Pity And Fear is completely different, an opening of tribal drums and sinister guitars. Gibbard does some surprising things with his voice but it never lifts the mood. This is weak and empty. Again like Bixby Canyon Bridge there is a stupidly long outro which, this time, ends suddenly - the band bored enough to pull the plug.
The album closes with The Ice Is Getting Thinner. It pushes all the music buttons but again Gibbard’s usually reliable voice veers off at times. The lyrics are also uninspired: ‘We buried our love in a wintry grave. A lump in the snow was all that remained’ continues the ‘cold’ metaphor but is not up there with the best. A soft guitar solo breaks the tedium.
Narrow Stairs is a very inconsistent album. On one hand it tries to do what Transatlanticism and then Plans did very well - there are some brilliantly crafted songs, but whether the band is striving for individuality or deliberately trying to alienate the hangers on, only they will know. Gibbard is, as always, brilliant, with few stumbles and the entire band sound coherent and proficient. Plans expanded the DCFC audience and had the potential to propel the band into major high-profile success and those people joining them for the first time will be sorely disappointed. There is enough on Narrow Stairs to keep hardened fans happy, including some of their best work, and maybe that is what the band want. No more fans please, we’re a huge secret and we want to stay that way…
-- CS
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