| Year | Album | Artist | Stars | Score | Genre | ||
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| 2003 | Transatlanticism | Death Cab For Cutie | ★★★★★ | 98 | Rock | Indie Rock | Emo |
It’s probably obvious for me to say that the goal of a song, typically, is for the lyrics, vocals and instruments to all line up in perfect harmony. If that’s the case, the goal of a record, typically, is to produce a collection of those songs and arrange them in such a way that creates a single, streamlined package where each song compliments the next.
Transatlanticism — released in 2003 as Death Cab For Cutie’s fourth album — is one of the best examples of a band achieving both of those goals.
Where many attempts at concept albums by other bands fall flat or feel forced — with shoehorned metaphors, individual moments that lack context on their own or rogue songs that stick out and just don’t fit — every moment and lyric on Transatlanticism feels like it was made precisely for the album.
Overarching themes about longing for old connections and the mental impacts of emotional and physical separation are present from the opening moments of “New Year” to the closing lines of “Lack of Color.” Musically, songs hint at isolation and intimacy with moments of sparse production, while occasional fits of noise can overwhelm the senses with emotion. But, even though the album’s ambiance is sometimes cold and the themes are frequently dark or sad, the album isn’t bleak. There’s a lot of warmth and comfort to be found.
Ben Gibbard draws you in with his friendly voice, while his words create vivid images. The guitar and piano melodies are simple but colorful and affecting. Other elements like echoing reverb, well-placed distortion, clapping, stomping and bells help fill in details and bring both depressing and playful moments to life.
I once listened to an interview with Ben Gibbard in which he said people get upset when they learn that the stories in his lyrics aren’t actual experiences that he’s had. It shouldn’t be a surprise to anyone that songwriters create stories and images that aren’t always based on truths (we do call musicians artists, afterall).
Yet, with Transatlantisim, the way Gibbard delivers the lines, the vulnerability in his voice and the emotions that come out of him, you can’t help but believe that he’s retelling stories from the past. It’s a master class in storytelling and songwriting. Nothing he says is overly complex or pretentiously poetic. Instead, it feels conversational, personal and, most importantly, human.
Take the opening lines of “Passenger seat”: “I roll the window down, and then begin to breathe in the darkest country road and the strong scent of evergreen from the passenger seat as you are driving me home. Then looking upwards, I strain my eyes and try to tell the difference between shooting stars and satellites from the passenger seat as you are driving me home. ” It’s two sentences, but even outside of the context of the music or the sung cadence, you form a perfect image in your head.
In contexts with the rest of Death Cab For Cutie’s catalog, Transatlanticism is the clear pinnacle of the band creatively and musically, with song structures are surprisingly unconventional and nuanced production elements. And it — as well as The Postal Service’s 2003 release Give Up — serve as a bridge from the raw, indie rock sounds on the band’s previous three albums and the more commercial, accessible pop-rock style they’ll adopt later on.
Album highlights — “Title and Registration,” “Tiny Vessels” “Transatlanticism,” “Passenger Seat” and “A Lack of Color” — are the most evocative and emotionally affecting on the record, but each of the 11 songs here works to elevate the others. The quicker, more upbeat tracks (“New Year” “Sound of Settling” and “We Looked Like Giants”) add energy while contrasting nicely with the most tender moments (“Lack of Color,” “Lightness,” “Passenger Seat”). And those soft moments make the payoffs of the epic, soaring instrumental builds and choruses that much more worthwhile.
