There’s different tiers of grief: the self-induced (watching your home team’s first-ever World Series appearance slip through their mitts by one game), the tragic (a marriage dissolving despite weathering a claustrophobic pandemic), and the unspeakable (the deaths of loved ones, taken in a flash or drawn out over years). In recent years, Ben Gibbard, one of indie rock’s prevailing figureheads, has unwittingly endured all three. That much is clear on I Built You a Tower, Death Cab for Cutie’s first album in four years. Sorrow has always been a songwriting wellspring for Gibbard, who built his band’s reputation on an ability to sort tangled pain into unique talismans: styrofoam plates, loaned letter jackets, and the formation of the Atlantic Ocean. As he’s aged into a more stable adult, Death Cab for Cutie’s songs have similarly mellowed out. However, this latest batch of hardships, particularly a divorce from his longtime wife, pushed Gibbard to a place of such exhaustion that he’s practically come full circle to his younger, more overwhelmed self—and with it, his best musical impulses in a decade.
Despite compartmentalizing these problems, Gibbard couldn’t admit their compounding weight until 2023, when he started heave-crying midway through a 100-mile ultramarathon in volcanic mountains; shaking and puffy-eyed, he tapped out. It’s a sentiment echoed on “Riptides,” where he confesses: “I’m too tired to end the war/And I can’t seem to hold it together.” I Built You a Tower reckons with the moment that agony begins to spill over, but without invoking a victim complex or the wounded limping of past narrators. Gibbard hides from rain, opts for Irish goodbyes, and resorts to giving himself pep talks to drag himself out of bed. His body keeps the score, but his age grants a new perspective: “How heavenly a state/The acceptance of collapsing,” he later sings, and means it.
No score yet, be the first to add.
Yet that weariness doesn’t plague the music itself. Death Cab for Cutie spent the 2010s drifting through meandering electronics, stilted lyrics, and toothless indie-pop, only to rebound with creative momentum in 2022 with Asphalt Meadows. They made that record, in part, by revisiting four-tracks from 1996 and using their new perspective to deconstruct those old songs. Throughout I Built You a Tower, Death Cab for Cutie revive the yearning that propelled their original indie rock, alongside an insatiable focus and hunger for more: gnarled post-punk in “How Heavenly a State,” ambient synth-pop in “Trap Door,” twinkling guitars in “Punching the Flowers.” Nick Harmer swings his bass like white-knuckled punches and rakes lines through dirt on those songs, rivaling his command on Narrow Stairs. It’s the closest Death Cab for Cutie have sounded to their golden era since the 2014 departure of guitarist and producer Chris Walla, while still reflecting the mature band standing in the present.
The uncomplicated nature of the songs on I Built You a Tower means the record flickers with hallmarks of the band’s early era: that dejected guitar melody over cymbal hiccups on “I Built You a Tower (A)” resembles We Have the Facts and We’re Voting Yes; the drum machine behind bleary synth in “Stone Over Water” could pass for Something About Airplanes with cleaner production. Even their pop instincts get punched up in “The Flavor of Metal” with the intuitiveness of Plans. This quality isn’t a result of nostalgia bait, studying old tapes, or the band’s nearly two-year-long anniversary tour for Transatlanticism, but the fact that this current iteration of the group—Gibbard, Harmer, drummer Jason McGerr, guitarist-keyboardist Dave Depper, and multi-instrumentalist Zac Rae—prefers a less-is-more approach. After several records of muted ideas, Death Cab for Cutie sound emboldened again while recalling the songwriting traits that once set them apart in a sea of indie-rock bands who’ve since petered out.
