A friend of mine told me he hated Plans "because it didn't sound like Postal Service." I had to laugh—this was akin to saying you don't like the latest Blur album because it doesn't sound like Gorillaz—but I felt it was indicative of something larger. Are bands ruined by success? There are some that are just plain successful, and thrive that way; but the smaller ones, the ones who spent years toiling in Indie Purgatory, can they handle success? Or will they just be swallowed up by their own hype?
Indeed, there are some amusing similarities between Plans and Coldplay's X&Y. For each, their new album was meant to rocket them to superstar status. Coldplay was riding the success of "Clocks" being everywhere and in every award show, and Death Cab for Cutie was riding the success of being tapped for multiple episodes of the OC. I hated X&Y—and I took a lot of flack for it—but Coldplay more or less puttered out, remaking "Clocks" eleven times over and occasionally varying the minute mark where the other instruments joined in. Death Cab doesn't fall for the same trap; while they are certainly referencing their earlier work, and while they are certainly remaining within the mold they have contructed for themselves, Plans is not by any means a flat album.
Its dynamism shine through from the very first track. "Marching Bands of Manhattan" follows up on an old DCFC tradition: a leisurely, slow build, no chorus or refrain, and tender, beautiful, heart breaking lyrics. It also seems to fit in Gibbard's tradition of using major American cities as foibles for broken relationships—"405," off We Have the Facts and We're Voting Yes and "The District Sleeps Alone Tonight" off Postal Service reference LA and DC, respectively. "Sorrow drips into your heart/Through a pinhole...But while you debate/Half empty or half full/It slowly rises/Your love is gonna drown." Over the course of four minutes, the drums keep rolling, the kick keeps insistently kicking, and the guitar gently meanders around the various notes of Gibbard's melody. When the distortion hits, it almost climaxes, and just as it hints at winding down, all you're left with is a single piano key. Brilliant.
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