I’m Sorry Ben Gibbard

There comes a time in every man’s life where he must admit that he was wrong. It’s not easy, but it’s certainly necessary for him to right the wrongs he’s committed. To simply allow this injustice to remain unchecked would be self-centered and deplorable. Concordantly, THIS is one of those times. So without further adieu, I concede my apology.

Ben Gibbard, I’m sorry I gave Narrow Stairs a 3/5 when it deserves 4.5/5.

Let me explain myself here: As those who follow this blog already know, I chalk Transatlanticism up to insane proportions. It’s one of the few albums that I consider to be perfect in every respect. And as stated my review, my anticipation for Narrow Stairs was incredibly high at the time of its release. However, 7 months later I’m willing to concede that I believe I misjudged an album seeped in subtly that I was not ready to explore.

Perhaps it’s the fact that I’m in the thick of Chuck Klosterman IV at the moment, but Death Cab For Cutie have made an album I was not “advanced” enough to deal with at the time. Where I expected crisp immediacy in audio production, I was given murky and thick soundscapes to absorb. Where I expected coy twisting metaphors, I was treated concise statements with deceptive double meanings. Mr. Gibbard and the rest of his musical Cab challenge my notion of what their band was about, and I didn’t get it in May.

Where I expected an album that had a small ray of hope, I received an album born and steeped in darkness.

While Transatlanticism reminisced about cinematic memories to hold on to, and Plans looked towards an ideal future, Narrow Stairs is an album about decay. Every song on here is about death, loss, and frailty, whether it’s the claustrophobic juggernaut “I Will Possess Your Heart” or the wistful melancholy of “Cath…” While guitarist Chris Walla told fans that this album would have teeth, he failed to mention that they had hidden the fangs so innocuously.

I suppose one could argue that the album “grew on me,” but I’d say that’s a bit simplistic. When I listen to Narrow Stairs now, I hear things that I did not before. There is a tension to these songs, a fear in Gibbard’s voice as he sweetly sings about futility on tracks like “Talking Bird.” Elsewhere, “Grapevine Fires’” somber vocal work seems to melt like the hopes of those so close to the blaze it describes.

For such a bleak album, it certainly has a pop accessibility to it.

And repeated listens are warranted to truly understand the production techniques that Chris Walla implemented. As I said in my review, there is a wall of sound quality to much of Narrow Stairs, but the beauty in Walla’s production is how effortlessly he brings in these abstract sounds and how seamlessly he fades them out. It represents the fleeting feel of these tracks, never really allowing listeners to grasp them concretely before they are gone, but instead teasing them with quickness. Simply put, the songs on here certainly ebb and flow with dramatic rises and falls and the production certainly suits that.

In the end, I wanted Narrow Stairs to be an album that I could easily understand, and it’s not. Since then, I’ve come to understand that I need to work at deconstructing this interesting piece of music, rather than waiting for Death Cab For Cutie to spoon feed me something close to what I expected. In short, I’ve got to grow to their level and apologies are a good first step since they are ALL about growth.

So for that Ben Gibbard, I’m sorry.