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Web Exclusive: A conversation with Death Cab For Cutie's Chris Walla

Alternative Press - Brian Shultz on 12/31/08 @ 12:43 AM - altpress.com

A decade ago, DEATH CAB FOR CUTIE were just another band from sleepy Bellingham, Washington, making their way through the rigors of their formative years. After frontman Ben Gibbard recorded the You Can Play These Songs With Chords cassette, he organized some band members together and began to play shows, including a spot with Harvey Danger at Seattle's Crocodile Cafe on February 25, 1998. A few months after that, Death Cab released their proper debut, Something About Airplanes. Guitarist Chris Walla found himself in the producer's chair for the first time, foreshadowing a respected semi-career that would find him recording all of Death Cab's records and working with bands like the Decemberists, Tegan And Sara and Nada Surf. Ten years after Airplanes' original release, Barsuk Records have reissued the album including a bonus disc with a recording of the aforementioned show. Brian Shultz recently spoke with Walla about his early tremors recording and playing live, the ongoing relationship with Harvey Danger and the plans ahead.

Was Something About Airplanes your first real time producing a studio full-length?
Yeah, I guess it was. That was my first proper album.

How was it diving into producing for the first time?
It was a little daunting, and it was a little bit like-and in a way, it still is--making-up-as-you-go sort of stuff. The thing with that record is that it was right at the dawn of digital home recording and the end of tape-based recording. I was sort of railing against that. But what that meant was that I was able to get a bunch of really weird equipment for really, really cheap because it was so particularly out of vogue right at that moment. There's lots and lots of tape delays [on the album]; for most of those mixes, I've got like two or three tape machines rolling at the same time. It was really, really fun, and I did a bunch of stuff that I've never done again. I've sort of wondered why at different points. [Laughs.]






Fake Frowns - Death Cab For Cutie

When did Death Cab start to get away from tape-to-tape production?
That part still really hasn't changed that much. I mean, [2005's] Plans was the only record that we've done in a digital format. All the other records were done on tape. That's just how I've been working. I sort of never got away from that.

How would you compare the two methods?
The thing about working on tape is that it's a linear format, and you can't get away from that. If you want to make a musical decision, you have to be listening to the music while that decision gets made, which is really untrue if you're working in Pro Tools or [Apple's] Logic where you can do a whole bunch of work at a digital workstation that very much has everything to do with the music that you're listening to while there's no music playing. And the fact that it's non-linear means that you can have all sorts of crazy editing capabilities. But it also means that it's much harder [to edit] something that starts at Point A and ends at Point B. Every song on Something About Airplanes, and most of the songs on [2008's] Narrow Stairs share something: The drummers--Nathan [Good] on Airplanes, and then Jason [McGerr] on Narrow Stairs--start playing at the zero marker and four-and-a-half minutes later, there's a tape. Like, there's a song. If there are cuts in those performances, and there are a few actual, physical cuts, you're grabbing another piece of tape and slapping it against the first one. But when we make an edit on tape, it's a long, detailed, thought-out and carefully considered sort of venture. You can't just grab stuff and move it around real quick. You have to spend a lot of time thinking about it.

I'm finding more and more that people are kind of not used to working that way. It's taking more and more time and more and more energy for people to actually want to commit to that. I find it really sort of rewarding to work that way and I think in that respect it sounds interesting and not generic.

Do you find yourself doing that today--improvising while you produce a band?
Oh, yeah. It's always improvisation to a degree. When I'm working with a band now, there's a much clearer endgame. We have the goals all sort of predetermined and dialed in. There's always a framework for getting to that goal. But all the stuff that happens on the way--a lot of it's made-up. You're always writing your own script. There's never a decisive, absolute way that any record gets made. It's all a little different.

Would you say Something About Airplanes was where you first thought it would be cool to record other bands?
It took me a long time to come to that conclusion. I was really uncomfortable with that idea for a few years. I dived in because it seemed like the right thing to do. Honestly, I've only really started to get comfortable with that in the last three or four years.

Due to experience?
Yeah. The experience of doing records scheduled on top of one another is really the only way to make more records. [Laughs.] There's no schooling or training to really make it all that easy. It's such a strange thing.

Does playing in Death Cab keep you too busy to record as much as you'd like?
Our touring schedule makes it really difficult for me to do as much as I would like to do. I still end up turning down lots of work based on the touring schedule. But being in Death Cab For Cutie is not a bad day job to have. [Laughs.] There are definitely worse things I could be doing with my time. But there'll come a point when we're not doing as much and I get to make more records and that'll be great too.






Your Bruise - Death Cab For Cutie

Do you listen to Something About Airplanes nowadays and notice things you'd do differently today?
Well, yeah, but I also hear things that I sometimes wish I could get back into the mindset of. There are some chances that we took on that record that are totally insane that I don't really get to anymore, for whatever reason. The thing about that record was that it was all experiment. It's a miracle that there are some results there, I think. Even doing the simplest stuff, like just recording a vocal or guitar or drumset, or whatever--everything was this big, long involved experiment. And a lot of that stuff is just second nature now. I can get to the core of recording a rock song pretty quickly. But I think that all of the conventions that I've learned to get to that point are things that I used to have to fight for. And in the process of fighting for those [things], you end up making some really interesting creative decisions. Some of that stuff, I don't really think that way anymore. I think some of it's just lost to time. And that's fine. That's a document of a time and a place. That's what every record is.

What parts still blow you away?
I still really love some of the drum sounds and I really adore Nathan's drumming. He was my best friend through middle school and high school. I met him when I was 13. Until he left Death Cab For Cutie [in 2000], he was the only drummer I'd ever played with. His particular thing--he's got this really heavy hand and a really heavy foot and he's got this really strange behind-the-beat swagger that nobody else that I've ever played with has had. But his [drumming style] is so much a part of my [musical] DNA that I sometimes forget how awesome that is and how important and formative it was for me.

I also really miss the way the house in Bellingham where we recorded sounded. It's just a beautiful-sounding acoustic space for a shitty college rental house.

Does any of the music on the album make you cringe?
Not on that record. I really like all the songs. There's some out-of-tune stuff here and there--like there's some really sharp bass and Erika [Jacobs'] first cello notes are pretty sour, but whatever. That's fine. Again, it's such a great photograph of the period of time. It's really nice.

The bonus disc features your first Crocodile Cafe performance. How do you remember the crowd's response to your cover of the Smiths' "Sweet And Tender Hooligan" with guest vocalist Sean Nelson of Harvey Danger?
I remember it being pretty good. At that point, Harvey Danger were on the upswing, and having Sean sing that with us was a pretty big coup; it was really exciting. He's such an incredible singer, and he can pull that stuff off like nobody else. I mean, it was just like everything else we were doing at that point. It was an experiment. It was like, "Well, let's see if we can do this." And I'm just so happy that recording made it. [Laughs.] It's so great that that actually got released. It's really cool.

Were you nervous at that show since it was one of your first?
I was nervous a lot at those first shows. And playing the Crocodile was one of the lofty goals early on. It was one of the best rock clubs of its size anywhere on the planet. It had a really great staff; a really spectacular sound guy; a decent layout--save for the one big post right in the middle of the room; it was in a good part of town; it had great drinks and really good food. It was kind of everything you could ask for. It was always warm, even on the coldest nights. Playing there for the first time was definitely a little bit nerve-wracking, but it was something to do at that stage. I think like a lot of legendary stages at whatever level you happen to be at, regardless of strata, there's something about it that makes you want to work a little harder and "bring it," as it were.






Champagne From a Paper Cup - Death Cab For Cutie

Has anyone pointed out the irony of the paths both you and Harvey Danger traversed since this show took place?
Well, yeah, and I mean, we're still good friends with all those guys. So many of the decisions that we made were based on decisions that friends of ours made. The road that we are on is paved with the bones of all our friends' bands. Harvey Danger were such a ramshackle band in performance terms, but in song and presentation terms, I'll stand by them until the day I die. Their first record, [1997's Where Have All The Merrymakers Gone?], single-inclusive, is one of my favorite records. If I had to make a desert island list, that record's on it. I think it's a beautifully written, honest, engaging and absolutely sincere album. It's a testament to the bull-headedness of the record companies--like the big record label machine at that point and time during the late '90s, the pre-internet age--that they didn't make it. I think that [Harvey Danger] made some really terrible decisions in terms of the contract they finally signed, and the reasons they signed. But it's certainly through no fault of theirs that happened.

Harvey Danger are still around. They still play shows. They still put out records. Ii fact, my girlfriend books them. In a more just world, that second record [2000's King James Version] would've done really well because it's an excellent album [as well]. But things happen.

Have Death Cab begun writing the next album?
No, not yet.

Ben [Gibbard, vocals/guitar] recently mentioned that he was interested in writing a softer album. Do you have the same intention?
No. [Laughs.] I have no interest in doing anything that's mild and meek. I want to make a radio record this next time out. There's no reason for us to keep doing what we're doing if we're making meeker, smaller records. That stuff doesn't translate well to the kinds of shows we're playing and to the numbers of people we're playing for. I don't particularly have any real connection to a lot of the mellower stuff that Ben writes. I really feel like he's getting his best stuff when he's being assertive and forward.

So does that mean bigger and bolder songs?
Yeah, I suppose so. In a way, when we signed to Atlantic, Plans was a sort of partial, half-hearted step into an attempt to make something that is more appealing on a broader scale. And I think that Narrow Stairs was really sort of a reactionary move--like very much the opposite of that. Maybe it's just a phase, but I'm really interested in making something that is appealing on a really broad level and something we can be really satisfied with. But I think that there's a way to bridge those two gaps. The prevailing wind is that art and commerce are not good bedfellows and that they can't meet halfway. I sort of refuse to believe that, and I would really like to do something that isn't a brainless pop record, but something people can definitely get into.

Are you working on any material yourself that you'd consider for another solo record?
I'm working on a whole truckload of stuff that I'm trying to whittle down into single, 60-minute album-esque pieces of music. I think it's not gonna be songs--just this big, long, meandering, weird thing. But it's really strange and sort of nebulous right now. I'm still kind of adding to it. I'm still sort of collecting pieces. So it's a mess right now. But "yes" is the short answer, I guess.

You think you'll be able to find time next year to properly record that and release it?
Oh, yeah. I mean, it's already underway and I'm working on it all through January. I've been working in Logic, so I can actually do a little bit of work on it on the road, too, which is great. I hope that it'll get done by the middle of next year. That's my hope. alt

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