Transatlanticism


Transatlanticism is the fourth studio album by rock band Death Cab for Cutie, released on October 7, 2003, by Barsuk Records. At this point in their career, the group had toured and recorded for nearly a half-decade. With tensions rising, the band decided to take time away from one another; notably, Ben Gibbard collaborated with electronic musician Dntel, and released an album, Give Up, under the name the Postal Service. Death Cab regrouped in late 2002 to create Transatlanticism, which was recorded in a leisurely manner over five-day stretches until June 2003.
The record is a concept album, exploring a theme of long-distance romance. Gibbard penned the lyrics, which are somber and focus on the need to be loved. Musically, the album utilizes ambience and instrumental sparseness as an extension of this theme. The album's title, likewise, references the Atlantic Ocean and uses it as a metaphor for geographic and emotional separation. Chris Walla, the band's guitarist, produced the album as he had for its predecessors. The album's artwork was created by artist Adde Russell.
Prior to the album's release, Give Up had become a huge success, eventually going platinum—unusual territory for indie rock artists. The band were also referenced on the television drama The O.C., which increased their profile. Expectations for Transatlanticism were high, with the band receiving renewed attention. The album was a success: it charted at number 97 on the Billboard 200, and was certified Platinum by the Recording Industry Association of America, for shipments of 1,000,000 copies in the United States. It received acclaim from music critics, who praised its emotional tone and expansive music. It is also the band's first album with drummer Jason McGerr.

Background

Death Cab for Cutie formed in Bellingham, Washington, in 1997 by singer-songwriter Ben Gibbard, multi-instrumentalist Chris Walla, bassist Nick Harmer, and drummer Nathan Good. Gibbard had met Walla during their tenure at Western Washington University, and bonded over their taste in music. The quartet made their debut on the limited cassette release You Can Play These Songs with Chords. The following year, the group relocated to Seattle to pursue music in earnest. Their proper debut album, Something About Airplanes, was released on Seattle independent label Barsuk Records. They continued to build a following through relentless touring, and issued their second album, We Have the Facts and We're Voting Yes, in 2000. The group shifted their percussionists numerous times: Good was replaced by Jayson Tolzdorf-Larson, and then by Michael Schorr, with whom the band recorded their third LP, The Photo Album, released in 2001.
The Photo Album creation was rushed for financial reasons. Each band member had recently left their day jobs, with the band now their primary source of income for the first time. They had also set a tour for later in the year, which led to a rushed, difficult recording process. Upon its release, The Photo Album represented the group's biggest success yet. It sold over 50,000 records at that time, which was unprecedented for an indie band. Despite this, relations between the band grew strained. The group had issues with Schorr, and Walla—who enjoyed recording music more than performing it—was feeling exhausted by the entire experience. It culminated in a tense fight at a tour stop in Baltimore in October 2001 where the band nearly broke up. After their touring commitments were complete, the band took a hiatus.
Gibbard moved to the Silver Lake neighborhood of Los Angeles, and began collaborating with electronic music artist Dntel. The duo completed an album together, titled Give Up, which was issued on Sub Pop Records in February 2003. It became a bigger success than either had imagined, selling over 500,000 copies within its first two years of release, and over one million within the decade. Walla, meanwhile, continued to explore his interest in recording, producing albums by the Thermals and the Decemberists. By the time the band regrouped to work on their next album, tensions had cooled. Schorr had departed the band and was replaced by drummer Jason McGerr. His addition assisted in bringing stability to the band, as his calm demeanor helped settle the band's previous dynamic.

Recording and production

Transatlanticism was recorded between December 2002 and June 2003. The album was mainly recorded at the Hall of Justice, a studio in Seattle's Fremont neighborhood that Walla purchased in 2000. A large portion of recording was also completed at Tiny Telephone Studios in San Francisco, where Walla worked as an engineer. He credited that studio as "the fifth member of the band", noting that its isolated location allowed him to "get locked in there in the most beautiful kind of way." The group made a conscious effort to spread out the recording process across months and studios, as they had had a poor experience recording its predecessor in a short time frame. Sessions at both studios were typically held over five day spans, with the band working leisurely and allowing themselves time to return to the recordings later for a fresh perspective.
In contrast to the negative atmosphere that produced its predecessor, the working environment for Transatlanticism was a kind and creative one. McGerr's joining the band refreshed their own commitment to the project, including Walla, who had at various times threatened to leave in the past. Gibbard considered it key that Walla was enjoying himself, and cited it as an integral piece to the album's success. To help spark inspiration during the recording process, the quartet utilized Oblique Strategies, a card-based method for promoting creativity jointly created by musician Brian Eno and painter Peter Schmidt, first published in 1975. As with previous Death Cab records, Transatlanticism was recorded entirely on analog tape, avoiding the convenience of digital technology.
With the extra time taken in the studio, the fidelity of the album is of a considerably higher quality than previous efforts. The band recorded 12 songs, but left one incomplete at the time of its release.
Prior to the album's release, Gibbard stated: "...unlike The Photo Album, I feel like this record is definitely more like a proper album. We’ve tried to construct it with transitions of songs going in and out of each other, and I think it's a little bit more expansive than the last record."

Composition

Throughout its eleven tracks, Transatlanticism is a sonic narrative exploring themes of isolation, sorrow, and long-distance romance. Lauren Viera at the Chicago Tribune categorized the album's contents as "earnest love songs and bittersweet ballads." Though many have suggested the album is a concept album, it was not conceived as such; Gibbard suggested that the ways in which songs are sonically stitched gave listeners the impression. When creating the LP, Gibbard felt "fascinated with the idea of geographic barriers as metaphors for personal, emotional barriers." The album's title is a word Gibbard created to reference the Atlantic Ocean's vast reach and its ability to separate individuals. Harmer looked up the word and discovered it indeed already existed, having been used in science journals. The inspiration for the album's title track came from Gibbard observing individuals saying goodbye to each another at Heathrow Airport, and knowing that they may not see one another for some time. "I had this fantastic idea of what if people were just able to transport themselves across the places or events that separated them," Gibbard told writer Andy Greenwald on the song's genesis.
Prior to creating the album, Gibbard felt increasingly exhausted with touring, and had a relationship fall apart because of being away for so long. These experiences comprised what Gibbard reflected on as the "lowest" year in his life, and influenced the songwriting on Transatlanticism profoundly. After this breakup, Gibbard floated from fling to fling—"that general mid-20s malaise," he said, which informed his lyricism. He began to focus more on songwriting as a career. He was aiming to complete one song per day, and for the album, he brought the band 25–30 demo tracks. Gibbard wrote the songs between August 2001 to the spring of 2003. Much of Gibbard's lyrics were composed during a "period of exile" when he was living in San Francisco, house-sitting for John Vanderslice, the artist and owner of Tiny Telephone Studios. Walla considered Gibbard's writing an improvement on past releases, later calling it "some of the most genuine and straightforward writing he's ever done, really open and unguarded in a way that was kind of new." His work with Tamborello informed his songwriting for Transatlanticism, with particular emphasis on redeveloping songs and deciding what to leave in or out. Gibbard would submit his songs to the band, who from there would take them and redevelop them. The musicians would take each song, break it back down to its melody and lyrics, and completely re-work the original arrangement if they felt it creatively necessary. "By asking for, and allowing more input from all of us, we could all help each other to explore new territory and take a few more risks," Harmer said.
Greenwald, writing for MTV, writes that the album's songs "slow dance between genres—lush, sensitive piano ballads bump up against and blur into kaleidoscopic guitar grooves." The album emphasizes ambient noises, including "clicks, whooshes, and whirs"; the title track, for example, is built around the humming of an airplane engine. Its mood is often somber or dark, which Gibbard figured was an extension of his point of view in life: "I have this sense of realism that sometimes is a little depressing," he confessed to Magnet in 2003. Jim Fusilli, writing for The Wall Street Journal, found the content on the album "often-gloomy, yearning-for-optimism." Walla rejected the notion that the content on the album was bleak, noting that Gibbard's lyrics are mainly a "real simple expression of need and needing to be loved." Kelefa Sanneh, writing for The New York Times, observed that an extension of the album's long-distance theme lies in each song's reliance "upon a single, fragile-sounding melodic line—a skein of broken guitar chords, a reverberating piano."