emember that Yo La Tengo video where they get sent to rock school by their record label to toughen up their faint demeanor? There was a part where one of the rock teachers (played masterfully by a pompous, pipe-smoking Bob Odenkirk in a Kiss getup) stressed what he referred to as “the Foghat principle”: “Your fourth album should be DOUBLE LIVE!” What made it so humorous was the little bit of truth that existed within the joke. Every successful band faces that slight chasm of time after the auspicious debut, worthy follow-up, and higher profile, yet slightly less well received third record where they find themselves at a crossroads. A new record will take time, but that‘s something they may not have; people are more likely to remember stats on their favorite childhood baseball player than some evanescent critical darling (when was the last time you rocked out to Idlewild or Grandaddy?). So what better way to keep your name on the tongue than a release from the vaults. The first demos, b-sides, compilation appearances, it’s all good, really. Such is the case with Death Cab For Cutie’s You Can Play These Songs With Chords. Included is the band’s first release (sharing its name with this compilation), as well as a few rarities and 7-inch tracks. While little here strays far from the sound Death Cab has been tweaking for the past five years, it still makes for an intriguing listen for even casual fans of the group, and has its share of genuinely stunning moments.


The first eight songs-- those that comprise the debut cassette-- find the band in their original configuration as somewhat of a studio-based pet project between singer/guitarist Ben Gibbard and producer/guitarist Chris Walla. It’s no surprise then that they lack the dynamic of the group’s full-band performances. What’s more, the tape was never truly considered to be a complete representation of both the band and Gibbard’s vision. Accordingly, many of those songs play out as rough drafts of their final components. “Amputations” is stripped of the almost uncharacteristic, yet utterly convincing force that comes across on the Airplanes version and “Pictures In An Exhibition” is slowed down and muddied by murky production that clouds the peppy sheen of its finished counterpart. At other points, like on “President of What”, where the distinctive organ riff that propels the album version is lost deeper in the mix, it’s just a matter of a songs strength still being sought by the band. Conversely, others still, like the hollow “Hindsight” and rote-punk “That’s Incentive” were wisely dropped from the group’s repertoire as the other members arrived. While faults are clearly evident, it’s nothing to hold against Gibbard & Co.; everything starts somewhere, and many bands would be glad to have these great tunes, truncated as they may now seem, as their first gasps.


The rest of the disc, which collects various demos, as well as compilation and single appearances, is where Barsuk gets a little too generous. While it’s high time that the group’s two excellent main 7-inches, one a Sub Pop singles club appearance that yielded the haunting “Army Corps of Architects” and the inexplicably absent “Underwater!”, the other from Sonic Boom with the epic “Prove My Hypotheses” and quaint Secret Stars cover, “Wait”, are made widely available, the previously unreleased demos find the band operating at their apparent nadir. Aside from a confused but enjoyable “This Charming Man” cover, the remainder of the record shouldn’t even interest even the most ardent fans. “TV Trays” and “New Candles” lack Gibbard’s usually strong melodic sense, while “Tomorrow” (which could have flourished under Gibbard’s All-Time Quarterback side project) sounds like a lost track from a non-existent (and let’s keep it that way, thanks) Magnetic Fields tribute album. If “Flustered/Hey Tomcat!”, a three minute Walla tape manipulation, was as fun to listen to as it was to make, we’d all be in good shape; unfortunately, it’s not.


The thing about compilations like You Can Play These Songs With Chords is that it’s hard to attack them from many critical angles. I’m not going to admonish the record’s existence; it’s not catered to the whole of the listening public and does its job fairly well. But, as per its function, it should hardly be viewed as an introduction to a band that has vastly outgrown the confines of its music.