Review: Codes & Keys -Death Cab for Cutie

Washington’s Death Cab for Cutie has excelled at bringing somewhat sad narratives to fans across the world since the late nineties. With central lyricist and lead singer Ben Gibbard at the helm, the band has created seven albums that blend indie rock and folk, creating beautiful, simplistic songs that are relatable; which help set them apart from their musical counterparts. Their newest effort, Codes & Keys, may be their best full-band sound to date with cascading guitar that don’t overpower, vintage keyboards, and a steady, but subtle drum beat. What has been able to withstand the past 13 years is a band that has not only grown up but found something greater to inspire it.

The album’s lead-off single, “You Are a Tourist” shows the newer, more optimistic Gibbard and Co. “When there’s a burning in your heart, don’t be alarmed” he sings, encouraging the listener rather than reminding them that life and love ultimately end. What this song, as well as others such as “Monday Morning” brings to the table is a sense of maturity and an understanding of purpose. “Under the Sycamore” shows the strength of the new and improved Death Cab for Cutie. The sound of the piano and the sweetness of what sounds like tapping on glass jars propels this record in to a state of its own.

There are bits and pieces of the Death Cab that we would all play when we were sad and wanted to be alone with our thoughts. Tracks like “Home is a Fire” and “Portable Television” are quintessential, deep melancholia that are predictable, but enrich the album by rounding out its edges. Gibbard’s signature, whisper-like vocals bring out the emotion rooted in every word, and buries each sound into the listener’s mind. “Portable Television” especially, is the go-to lullaby on Codes & Keys, much like previous tracks such as “I Will Follow You into the Dark” from the album Plans.

Not to say that the record is perfect. While beautiful, some tracks such a “Some Boys”, “Unobstructed Views”, and “St. Peter’s Cathedral” seem to drag on. With little to no change in tempo or sound, the songs get boring and tedious.

Where it shines, it’s brilliant, and where it falters, it’s still great. Pitchfork was way off when writer Larry Fitzmaurice called the album “emotionally distant.” Each note played by the band is packed with more emotion and feeling than Fitzmaurice has in his whole body. If anything, Death Cab for Cutie has to hone that emotion and make it stand out, rather than let some fall as background noise. **8.0/10