The Five (or Six) Best Albums of 2003 - Page 2

4. Death Cab for Cutie, Transatlanticism

Seattle indie darlings Death Cab for Cutie finally found their niche in 2003, releasing their fourth compilation of sad, guitar-driven songs to a significantly larger audience. After toiling away in underground obscurity and touring relentlessly for six years, the band finally gained national recognition, selling out shows at big-city venues like the Fillmore in San Francisco and getting regular airplay on MTV and college radio.

Ben Gibbard, the quartet's singer/songwriter, is more direct this time around with his lyrics and more confident in his vocal delivery, although he has developed a cloying tendency towards the over-emotional. The rest of the band is superb, performing every song flawlessly, both on the record and onstage (I saw them live in November), although some of the older Death Cab fans will no doubt complain that this latest offering is much easier for newcomers to swallow than previous efforts. It is also much better produced — the swirling background noises, clever loops, and smooth transitions that pervade the album's 13 songs should earn it a "Best Experienced with Headphones" sticker on the shrink-wrap.

Although it would be nice to see Gibbard and co. move beyond the "eternal winter," as one reviewer put it, of Seattle-scene doom and gloom, Transatlanticism, with its pensive, listener-friendly melodies and intelligent lyrics, makes a great rainy-day record and outshines most of its peers in both style and substance.

3. Nada Surf, Let Go

This NYC trio, who first attracted national notice in 1996, with "Popular," a Clueless-era jab at the beautiful-people culture, re-released their third proper long-player this year on Barsuk Records, which, although technically more than a year old, was good enough to include here.

Singer Matthew Caws has abandoned the snobby, post-grunge social commentary of his former years, instead writing an album full of songs with bright pop hooks played at breakneck speeds, slowing down only occasionally to celebrate seemingly abstract things in life, like listening to Bob Dylan in the rain ("Blonde on Blonde") and red beetles with dots ("Blizzard of '77"), or wondering wistfully what it must be like on the "Inside of Love."

Article Author: John Adams

Visit John Adams's author page — John Adams's Blog