CD Review

Two years ago, Death Cab for Cutie released their fourth album, Transatlanticism, and their hype was as lukewarm as a mid-July Bud Light at Fenway Park. But the album would later signify a turning point for the band, as they would end up featured on The O.C. and become darlings of the Urban Outfitters set.

Soon after, lead singer Ben Gibbard’s side project, The Postal Service, would yield Sub Pop’s biggest seller since Nirvana’s Bleach. Suddenly Gibbard found himself alongside Conor Oberst as the voice of a new generation, while whispers of the next Death Cab for Cutie album, Plans, would have the Washington state emo rockers vying for 2005’s most anticipated release alongside Weezer and the White Stripes.

Just as the liner notes fade from bright to cloudy, so does the course of Plans, as Gibbard calmly guarantees "your love is gonna drown," on the opening hymn "Marching Bands of Manhattan." His playful imagination floats on the first single, "Soul Meets Body," with the frontman comparing his head to a Greyhound station, and "Crooked Teeth," where Gibbard echoes, "you’re so cute when you’re slurring your speech."

Once again Gibbard’s voice rides the epitome of emo, but there's a constant poke of fragility that gives Death Cab its credible identity. It also doesn’t hurt to have a respectable producer in the band to build confidence, as guitarist Chris Walla summoned the band into the woods of Massachusetts last winter to build the Death Cab sound into a polished redesign. Nick Harmer’s swinging bassline in "Summer Skin" taps at familiar, transcendental indie rock and the delicate piano additions give Death Cab a nod to its eclectic R.E.M. comparisons.

Though Plans reads like a romance novel, a timeline of relationships with subjects of love ("Soul Meets Body"), independence ("Your Heart Is an Empty Room"), heartbreak ("Someday You Will Be Loved") and death ("What Sarah Said"). But it fails to pick things up a notch in the rock department. Where Transatlanticism teased us into believing DCFC would be the next great experimental guitar band, there is a load of keyboard sap here and wishy-washy ballads to endure, that makes Plans a rather light affair.

Maybe next time instead of recording in New England in the dead of winter, these west-coasters should stay in overcast Seattle and stick with a familiar formula. The true Death Cab sound is still here at times, but in the end, Plans leaves you asking, "what is all the fuss about?"