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No matter how many times you see a band, the first time can never be forgotten. Innocence and excitement are the accompaniment of the virgin experience of seeing a great band, and no matter how much critical and snobbish baggage are added to your person over the years, the first time can’t be forgotten. I will always remember the first time I saw Death Cab For Cutie.
An October in Cleveland, Ohio, is a great time to see a sold out show. The wind from the lake has just begun to pick up some icy chill and you can smell the desolation of the snowstorms about to come in; so a show where you can’t move your arms, other than to put a bottle or a cigarette in your mouth, is perfect to feel some survival heat. In thirty days you won’t go out to a show due to the risk of your car dancing all over the icy road and having to add fifteen layers to your evening outfit.
This night in the year 2000 was billed as Pedro The Lion with Guest and the start time was before 9pm, which meant the show was to end early to get the club ready for the magical transformation of a rock club to a dance hall. There was a local band. My only thought I still have of their existence was I drank three working class beers in the time it took them to set up, play and tear down.
The tour support for Pedro The Lion was Death Cab For Cutie, a band I had never heard of, and by the orchestra of bottles breaking in trashcans, cigarettes being lit and mindless chatter no one knew who they were either.
There was no need for the band to announce where they called home, we all knew. The clothing decor of dark shirts and jeans worn from actual work rather than fade marks by children told everyone where they were from — Seattle, Wash.
In the years that have passed over my life, three details have always stuck with me over this virgin experience with Death Cab. The same crowd that greeted Death Cab as a background noise to their conversations suddenly morphed themselves into a mass of observers by the end of the first song. Wherever I looked all I could see was faces in awe and a rock reverance. During the entire set no one stood in the hallway that led to the open door bathroom of The Grog Shop to catch up with friends. No one wanted to miss a note or a prose like tale sung that night.
There was something about the songs that night. It didn’t feel like a band was just selling their newest record. They were telling us a story. Now I don’t remember the set list exactly but I remember the feeling of when For What Reason jumped from the intro guitar part to the band giving everyone a melody that would take months to get out of my head.
The echo of Death Cab’s guitars bounced off the walls and hit the entire crowd like waves; each one had a little more force than the one before. Death Cab, as an opening act, kept to the up tempo numbers, but rather than just ending the set with a “thanks”, they transformed the steady rush of waves into a crash of distortion and noise that almost seemed natural to a set that was so refreshing. I remember Ben Gibbard grabbing drumsticks and letting them scratch laps up and down his guitar adding to their My Bloody Valentine-esque ending. By set’s end I felt like the kid at a wave pool who had been just standing in the middle of the pool letting the waves hit him. The grand ending was the big wave, and I was rolling on concrete.
Lots of people bought the newest album from Death Cab that night. The EP of Forbidden Love that was graced with the image of a tree. Pedro The Lion went on to play a set that featured Ben Gibbard as the hired bassist. David Bazan heckled back drunk Cleveland gawkers that always end up at shows, and by the time the show was done a disco ball was put in the middle of the floor.
I saw that tour too. I had already heard them at that point from a CMJ comp and review. Also Appleseed Cast played the show too. I still have a letter press poster from that people always freak out when they see it.
The other day at worked i listened to The Photo Album to Narrow Stairs consecutively. These releases span seven years but they deliver consistently every time. How do they do it? This experience reigned my love to Death Cab.