Quasi sempre finisco per giudicare, nel bene e nel male, i libri dalla copertina, e ovviamente non parlo (solo) di libri.
Va da sé che l’esordio dei Death Cab For Cutie (A.D. 1998), per quanto scritto poco sopra, non poteva che essere ascolto gradito.
Sullo sfondo di un azzurro irrealisticamente terso, un ovale bianco racchiude un barca a remi stilizzata. Tutte le lettere volutamente in minuscolo, quasi ad esprimere una tendenza all'introversione.
“Something About Airplanes” è pura estetica nineties, con un suono rappresentativo della loro area di provenienza, quel Pacific North-West che tante gemme musicali ha regalato in quegli anni.
Produzione semi lo-fi per un album ricco anche di spunti incredibilmente pop (“President of What?”, che ricorda a tratti gli Eels). Come molti dischi d’esordio anche “SAA” vive di influenze differenti: è così che “Champagne From A Paper Cup”, dal sapore smithiano (Elliott, ndr), è seguita da “Your Bruise”, che comincia con arpeggi slowcore (simili a quelli della sesta traccia “Sleep Spent”) per poi evolversi in maniera più dinamica.
Non mancano poi melodie più pulite, sia figlie di un rock in parte più tradizionale (vedi “Pictures In An Exhibition”), sia vicine a sonorità più sognanti (“Amputations”, che per certi versi ricorda i Mercury Rev). Efficaci anche gli interventi di violoncello, che arricchiscono con toni agrodolci “Bend To Squares” e “The Face That Launched 1000 Shits”.
Ben Gibbard e Chris Walla (voce, chitarra e songwriter principale il primo, chitarrista, produttore e co-autore il secondo) riescono a rendere delicate le trame distorte e riverberate delle loro chitarre elettriche, in maniera del tutto simile ai vicini Built To Spill.
La splendida ballata post-rock “Line Of Best Fit”, con una delicata voce femminile e una coda finale simil-psichedelica, chiude un disco certamente minore rispetto ad altri capolavori coevi, tuttavia ingiustamente sottovalutato e consigliato vivamente agli amanti del genere.
Elenco tracce testi e video
01 Bend to Squares (04:33)
Gravitated towards a taste
For foreign films and modern plays
But that machine could only
Bend to squares five to six times
Before your fingers came unwired...
Weights down so that you could move forwards
Pinch to snub that restless nerve
And knock the wind from one last urge
With two fingers and a rock glass,
Time passed and that was that
Quite a slip (a loosened grasp)
Weights down so that you could move forwards
... what a way to cut lengthwise...
02 President of What? (04:01)
I saw the scene unfold on a rainy Sunday
creases indicating folds that kept 4 walls from caving in
I took a little more of what I take for granted
and filled my plate with fears that gears would turn
and wheels would roll away
Something's got to break you down
entered the scene (I'm told) on I think it was Monday
you drove straight through and mined that quarry
for all it could bleed 'til dry
I took a little more 'til I got taken for granted
'cause beautiful boys gave chase
and when they arch your backbone
it's such a dreadful sight
I'll react when faces find you
with jealous fits that gag and bind you
'cause nothing hurts like nothing at all
when imagination takes full control
03 Champagne From a Paper Cup (02:38)
I think I'm drunk enough to drive you home now
I'll keep my mouth kept shut under lock and key
that's rusted firm, no lie
'cause all these conversations wind on and on...
Drinking champagne from a paper cup
is never quite the same
and every sip's moving through my eyes
and up into my brain
at half past two; about time to leave
'cause the DJ's playing rhythm and blues
a sad-sorry state; stutter step to those slammin' grooves
as I'm waiting around for you...
04 Your Bruise (04:19)
It's a backwards attraction to your forward eyes
but you're so far sighted that you can't place trust
in what or who you recognize
we sped the Plymouth
across the banks of the Mississippi river
Mary Timony was smaller than a super ball...
chitter-chatter all these secrets
started giving me the shivers
plain and simply broken down near Olympia
I think your bruise was understated
'cause you can't feel this anymore
it's getting bluer and you can't keep faking
that you can't feel this anymore
05 Pictures in an Exhibition (03:49)
I think you caught me on the downslide, downturn
I was busy writing with a pen and paper thin dream
And all your plastic people with plastic hearts and smiles
They had the worst intentions all along after all...
The royal castle holds the mellow drama kings and queens
And all their dazzling children; their so regal (clean)
With pristine fingertips they wash behind their ears
And let their hair down 'til the audience leaves
I'm definitely shaking
the silence isn't breaking
backwashed and stranded memories
of something I thought could be
06 Sleep Spent (03:37)
I can't expel the truth
it's much more than I thought I could do
and with time my worth will stain
and split your heart from my name...
so drive away your mouth from my ears
and waste a day so I can think clearly
and what's left to wait for here
as my hands sleep spent this last year
choking the bottle's neck
that pulled you from my bed
so drive away your mouth from my ears
and waste a day so I can think clearly
drive away your mouth from my ears
and waste a day so I can think clearly
08 Amputations (04:54)
And if it was just how you wanted
You'd be glued to his bones and his brainstem
And changing your image and attitudes
Won't bring him back into your bedroom
Amputating as he's waiting
He's unresponsive 'cause you're irresponsible
Little swinger your bottle is thinking too much
'Cause you're aiming to please way off target
And I'll tell you what you must already know
Of amputating that too slow
Amputating
As he's waiting
Amputating
He's unresponsive 'cause you're irresponsible
09 Fake Frowns (04:30)
bent at the knee, a last resort
backfired and made things worse
once on the bus, it was quite possible
you'd be the jailhouse queen
jury and judge were screaming to hang
you spat the sweat from brow
he shrugged his shoulders, nothing would work
it had to end right now...
I can't drive straight counting your fake frowns
focusing in; details a must
trying to make each one count
all on your fingers stopping at ten
magistrate's keyed in how
the jury and judge were screaming to hang
you spat the sweat from brow
he shrugged his shoulders; nothing would work
it had to end right now...
we can't keep you interest now
increasing pixels and sound
10 Line of Best Fit (07:16)
These things take my time and energy
Don't stand too close without apologies
Cutthroat; cut out candid glimpses and
Wind me up; I'm ready
Can't escape this line of best fit
I remember being inside something more than you...
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