Plans

1	Marching Bands of Manhattan 4:12
2	Soul Meets Body 3:50
3	Summer Skin 3:14
4	Different Names for the Same Thing 5:08
5	I Will Follow You into the Dark 3:09
6	Your Heart Is an Empty Room 3:39
7	Someday You Will Be Loved 3:11
8	Crooked Teeth 3:23
9	What Sarah Said 6:20
10	Brothers on a Hotel Bed 4:31
11	Stable Song 3:42

Barnes & Noble

Death Cab for Cutie have been one of the slowest-percolating overnight success stories to hit the rock world in recent memory. The Seattleites' nearly decade-long slog through the indie-rock ranks -- assisted in no small way by frequent namechecks and a live performance on Fox's hit dramedy The O.C. -- culminates in a sudden uptick in mainstream profile on this major-label bow. The leap to more rarified company hasn't much changed frontman Ben Gibbard's worldview -- on the typically stark "What Sarah Said," he ponders sitting in a hospital room watching a loved one die slowly -- but it has made quite an impact on Death Cab's sound. At once more spare and more slick than their past outings, Plans is a definite throwback album, reminiscent of mid-'70s singer-songwriter discs on which piano and empty space were the primary coloring tools -- particularly on songs like the painstakingly denuded "Summer Skin" and the achingly deliberate "Brothers on a Hotel Bed." The instrumental palette does open up here and there, with organ flourishes propelling "The Marching Bands of Manhattan" and Flaming Lips–worthy kitchen-sink psychedelia draping "Your Heart Is an Empty Room." But at its core, Plans is more conspiratorial than anthemic; one gets the sense that Gibbard would just as soon whisper his confessions into listeners' ears one at a time as air them on a stage. That intimacy not only makes Plans easy on the ears, it gives it an immediacy that's hard to resist. David Sprague

All Music Guide

For your consideration: a wildly successful indie rock band with a legion of followers on an equally successful, highly credible independent label makes the jump to major-label powerhouse Atlantic, leading to much chagrin and speculation among its fans as they awaited with bated breath for what would happen to the group. The result was For Your Own Special Sweetheart, inarguably the most polished and fully realized album of Dischord alumnus Jawbox's career. Fast forward ten years and you find Barsuk's Death Cab for Cutie in the same position, making the same move. A new label, a larger crowd (thanks to their repeated appearances on The OC), and a side project of Ben Gibbard (Postal Service) that very well overshadowed the success of his main project. All of the moves were perfectly aligned to take the little band that could into the rock stratosphere. But the difference between Jawbox and Death Cab for Cutie was that For Your Own Special Sweetheart went on to be the finest release of Jawbox's canon. Plans definitely comes close to that mark, but falls slightly short. In comparison to the dry, raw production of Transatlanticism, Plans is warm and polished, the kind of album expected from a band obsessed with the sound of Fleetwood Mac's Rumours. Chris Walla does an amazing job bringing the group's sound in a different direction than before without compromising too many of the things that made the group sound great to begin with. Thematically, Plans is the Death Cab for Cutie suitable for graduate students, world-weary and wiser from their experiences, realizing they can no longer be love-starved 20-somethings without a clue yet hopelessly cursed to face the same issues. And there's merit to be had in acknowledging that maturity, for even blink-182 figured out their age and released their "serious" album. Gibbard's wispy, poetic lyrics (which could easily have been stolen from Aimee Mann's dressing room while she wasn't looking) still remain an artery from which the rest of the band beats and are some of his finest ever, but this time around the band aligns itself more with a series of emotional murmurs rather than a heart attack. The album winds its way from one ballad to the next, with brief stopovers at moderately up-tempo numbers to help break things up a bit. And it's this sense of resignation that either makes or breaks the album, depending on which Death Cab for Cutie is your favorite: the melancholic, hopeless romantic or the one who wears its heart on its sleeve with unbridled energy and passion. If Transatlanticism was Gibbard's Pet Sounds and Postal Service was SMiLE, then this is definitely Wild Honey, loved by adoring new fans and those who enjoy the ballads. But those hoping for a bit more -- for the bar to be raised higher -- might find this a mildly predictable exercise in Gibbard exorcising the demons of Phil Collins that haunt him. Plans is both a destination and a transitional journey for the group, one that sees the fulfillment of years of toiling away to develop their ideas and sound. But it's with the completion of those ideas that band is faced with a new set of crossroads and challenges to tread upon: to stay the course and suffer stagnation or try something bold and daringly new with their future. Which road they'll take will make all the difference. Rob Theakston