Death Cab For Cutie - Kintsugi

Kintsugi
Death Cab For Cutie
Tiger Rating: 8.0 / 10
Indie

You will always be haunted by your biggest successes and first loves. Nowhere is this truer than with Death Cab. Whilst it's been common consensus amongst the most die hard fans that Gibbard is in his most profound songwriting space when heartbroken and in disrepair, very little of their recent work has managed to live up to 2005's 'Plans' and certainly not the quintessential Death Cab album 'Transatlanticism' (2003).

Hopes were stirred in December / January with the release of first single from 'Kintsugi' - 'Black Sun' (official video here.)
The warbling, rueful vibe struck a gloriously familiar chord and hinted at a hopefully depro album, one steeped in regret, yearning and unfulfilled longing. An album that would hopefully erase the horror of 2011's sunshine single 'You Are A Tourist'. (Who can forget the lyrics "This fire grows higher"? Insert horror stricken emoji [here])
It's been in the haunting and regret that Ben has penned his most profound poetry. Not the optimistic sunshine. We have countless other bands for that stuff. Though he completed his contribution to the album before his departure, long term band mate and producer Chris Walla effectively made this the last ever (maybe) Death Cab album as he decided to quit the band. Rick Costley's hand is very noticeable here and its not entirely a bad thing.
'Kintsugi' (the Japanese art of fixing broken pottery with powdered precious metals like gold) may not be a rival to 'Plans' or 'Transatlanticism', but it is certainly some of the finest songwriting and production we've heard from the band in years.

The lyrics are once again in the forefront. Occasionally the effect is rather heavy handed. 'Black Sun', whilst being beautiful in a dark way and catchy in a non-radio way, ended up falling just this side of trite. Still, it is a strong moment, as is every track on the record. The first single is sandwiched between two upbeat tracks - the delicate yet likeable 'No Room In The Frame' (surely a cast off from 'Codes & Keys'?) and the brilliantly balanced, ever so 80s 'The Ghosts Of Beverley Drive'. Returning to a common theme of the album 'You've Haunted Me All My Life' is it man. Here is the band and the man we love. At once self aware, strong and self pitying. We get it. We've all been there. It sucks and it's beautiful at the same time. Along with penultimate 'Ingenue' and closing track 'Binary Sea' it hearkens to the subtly gorgeous, restrained and introspective stuff that we've come to know, love and hope for.
'El Dorado' attempts a little too much, both in terms of lyrical thrust and musical production. 'Good Help (Is Hard To Find)' is a slight misstep with it's pseudo disco guitars that appear out of nowhere. Still, it provides a necessary tempo change to the album and is far from abhorrent.

As a whole there is a delicate, refined balance holding 'Kintsugi' together, like the filigree that highlights a broken vessel fixed with kintsugi. There is a swan-song quality to the album that lends a certain nostalgia to you the listener. If Walla really has left the band for good, this is the last time you'll hear the band this way. Six albums in and Death Cab is now a specter in your bedroom. The particular chemistry these guys have honed over the past sixteen years will be forever altered from this moment on. They are the ghost that haunts your memories and the shadow that blocks your sun.

Gibbard writes in 'No Room In Frame' :

You cannot outrun a ghost
Speeding south bound lanes with abandon
It catches you on the coast
Or on the cliffs of the Palisades you killed the engine

And then it hovers above
Reeling bodies failing to discover
The thing they once knew as love
Raising their voices to convince one another

It might not quite be in the league of their previous glory, but Kintsugi, in it's own right, is a masterpiece.