Review Summary: There is beauty in a failure.
With so much of Ben Gibbard’s music drawing from heartbreak and loss, it was interesting to see how he would approach 2015’s
Kintsugi, his first album following his divorce from Zooey Deschanel. While
Codes and Keys was very much a byproduct of the happiness Gibbard experienced during his marriage, the effect of his newfound elation on Death Cab for Cutie was not subtle. The lyrical poetry and sharp-as-knives emotional output was just gone, and in the residue was nothing other than an ordinary indie rock band that had proven themselves to be so much more. Perhaps the failure of a relationship would be the catalyst for Gibbard to dig deeper into his emotional façade and recapture the glory of Death Cab’s past.
Much has already been said about the symbolic meaning of the title, as kintsugi is a Japanese art form in which the cracks and blemishes are highlighted and improved on rather than hiding the shortcomings away. The ironic thing is,
Kintsugi wears its flaws openly on its sleeve, flaws that most likely were not intended to exist. Whereas
Codes and Keys was plagued by seeing Death Cab at their most safe and sterilized,
Kintsugi falters because of its bland and uninteresting nature. This is the most boring that they’ve ever been, and it’s not as if Gibbard hasn’t treaded these waters before. Stylistically, this album feels just like any other, but without the visceral emotion and melancholic longing.
Codes and Keys didn’t necessarily have that either, but at least that safeness was backed by some signs of life.
None of this applies to the first five tracks, however, which are everything that
Kintsugi should have been. The album’s best songs are all placed right at its front end, and once the midpoint is reached there’s little to no reason to continue listening on. Lead single “Black Sun” is the slow, moody piece that more likely than not is about his divorce, with lyrics like “There is hope within despair” and “How could something so fair be so cruel?” probably directed towards Ms. Deschanel. In a similar vein, “Little Wanderer” is classic Death Cab, a simply beautiful slice of atmospheric indie rock that runs high on emotion. Gibbard’s vocals are filled with the purest form of despair and longing, with the feelings of pain clearly audible in his sorrowful voice. While it may be rather simplistic musically, with only soft guitar and the occasional drums in the background, the minimalistic instrumentation only adds to the atmosphere of the track. Meanwhile, on the opposite end of the spectrum, “The Ghosts of Beverly Drive” harkens back to songs like “Crooked Teeth” from
Plans or “Cath…” from
Narrow Stairs, uptempo songs with plenty of energy and drive behind them, and its pulsating riff leads way into the catchiest chorus on the entire album.
However, when
Kintsugi misfires, the results aren’t as awful as they are mind-numbingly dull. “Good Help (Is So Hard to Find)” is the lone exception, and the band’s foray into electropop is as disastrous as the thought sounds. The problem with the back half of this album is that it mostly consists of C-grade material that wouldn’t even make good B-sides. As Death Cab retreads on their old material, it becomes clearer and clearer that they have both run out of ideas and lost their inspiration. Sure, “Everything’s a Ceiling” and “El Dorado” are passable tracks, but just passable shouldn’t be what Gibbard has to settle for. It’s all too slow and all too drab, and in the end barely leaves a mark at all.
Kintsugi is an album that is built upon loss. Taking from both the departure of an influential founding band member in Chris Walla and the unfortunate ending of a marriage, one would expect the circumstances surrounding the record’s release to play a major role in its sound. Yet aside from a few flashes of brilliance early on, there’s not much to prove that Ben Gibbard’s descent back into sadness is doing him any good as a songwriter. Other than “The Ghosts of Beverly Drive” and “Little Wanderer” among others, Death Cab for Cutie have regressed to the point where all that can be hoped for is a couple of gems per record. Then again, even in this disappointing effort, there are still some bright spots that will wind up as essential listens. It’s just like “Black Sun” says – “There is beauty in a failure…”
