The Postal Service
Without The Postal Service I am not sure we would have Death Cab for Cutie, and without Death Cab there certainly wouldn't have been the other. A collaboration between electronica whiz Jimmy Tamborello and DCFC frontman Ben Gibbard, The Postal Service was named for the courier service that allowed the duo to trade song ideas. While they did pepper radio stations with three trim EPs at the backend of the '00s, the group is a one-album wonder. In early 2003 they released Give Up, spawning five major radio hits and breaking independent label sales records under the auspices of Sub Pop. (Think Nirvana.)
In the last few months the duo released a deluxe remaster of Give Up as a 10th anniversary edition, more than doubling the original ten-track set list. It is unclear whether the two are putting the nail in the coffin on their collaboration, as they are making the rounds at all the large festivals touring the album--a trip that is also helpfully touting Gibbard's recent solo project Recent Lives (2012). They were one of the most anticipated acts of this year's Coachella festival, many betting that this may very well be the last chance to hear the pair perform live. Below is their full performance this past June in Boston. (It's a fan video, so the quality isn't fantastic, but his or her constancy in filming the entire concert is to be admired).
For its part, The Postal Service provides a hinge not only for its members, but also for alternative pop in general. You can certainly hear the band's shimmering textures, instrumentation, and predisposition for vocal layers in DCFC's breakthrough, Transatlanticism (2003). Give Up also seemed to signal a period of transition out of "indie emo" acts like Blink 182 and My Bloody Valentine, making room for the likes of Spoon, Vampire Weekend, Arcade Fire, Iron & Wine, and Phoenix--many of whom are festival regulars.
I am likely overstating and oversimplifying the network of influence here, but these groups seem to be part of a movement early in the last decade where spinning and pre-fabricated samples were becoming increasingly amenable to the live venue.
Perhaps the two tracks from Give Up that best articulate the synthesis between analog and pre-fab sound production is the ubiquitous "Such Great Heights" and "The District Sleeps Alone Tonight" (at 50:55 and 00:00, respectively, in the full concert video above). The former has been sampled, covered, and remixed unendingly since its initial release. (I do believe a couple covered it for my high school's talent show one year.) Some of my favorites include versions by Feist, Iron & Wine, and particularly Ben Folds, who deploys spoons and Altoids canisters to replicate some of the effects.
Despite the gossamer production of smoothly syncopated kit work and iterative leggato guitars, the lyric themes behind both tracks are morally dark and left unresolved in the narrative lines. This is true of much of DCFC's music as it is for The Postal Service: Both seem invested in studies of contrast where songs of hope take up an emotionally plumbing musicality (see "St. Peter's Cathedral") while anthems to youth are lyrically invested in the close kinship between love and death, joy and despair. Their live performance, such as that embedded above, is a good example. Band mates work hard to get an audience clapping and singing along to their biggest hit whose topic just happens to be suicide.
I point out the juxtapositional pairings of theme and tenor not to suggest the naivete of festival-goers--a claim they are often unfairly stamped with as festivals themselves become increasingly corporatized--but rather to indicate the immense success and staying power of an act invested in challenging their listeners with unsettling yet stunning paradoxes.
Prepare for The Postal Service's 8:30pm set on Saturday, August 3rd, at the Bud Light stage by checking out their music, available from iTunes and streaming on Spotify.
--Elizabeth Tavares
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