"This is an arena rock song," smiled Death Cab For Cutie frontman Ben Gibbard, introducing "Soul Meets Body" at Rogers Arena last night.
The gentle irony wasn't lost on the crowd, who were also wondering who decided that the Bellingham indie-rockers were suitable candidates to fill the cavernous home of Canuck Nation. Death Cab certainly had the clout to draw a sizeable crowd, the majority of whom appeared to be teenage girls in Chuck Taylors and sensitive-looking lads wearing plaid shirts. But this was a concert that's greatness couldn't help but be diluted by the swathes of empty seats confronting both the bands and their fans.
It's not easy to categorise the music of Death Cab For Cutie. Their songs veer from extended electronic grooves like opener ‘"I Will Posses Your Heart" and new track "Doors Locked and Opened" to 60s-tinged powerpop like "Crooked Teeth" and the finale, "The Sound of Settling." Every track was radically different from the one that preceded it, but if there was a theme that ran through their entire set, it was Gibbard's innate sense of tragic romance. Whatever sounds were coming from his band, the words were coming straight from Gibbard's innermost emotions. That honesty was reflected in his performance. Whether he was brushing his hair behind his ears every ten seconds, bouncing across the stage lost in the music, settling behind a piano and even taking the drums for "We Looked Like Giants," it was always about the songs, never the pose. Gibbard appeared proud to portray himself as the antithesis of the professional rock star. Sex and booze? A cuddle and a latte would be nicer.
That's why his fans love him. Gibbard dedicated "the wimpiest song we have" to support band The Hold Steady. That turned out to be "I Will Follow You Into The Dark," a touching, rapturously-received love song that Gibbard performed solo on an acoustic guitar, accompanied only by the voices of everyone present and the glow of 500 mobile devices recording the moment for posterity. And YouTube.
If Death Cab For Cutie faced a sea of empty seats, for The Hold Steady it must have looked like the Pacific Ocean. Stepping up to the challenge, the band began with "Stuck Between Stations" and never took their feet off the pedal, delivering a string of high-speed, maximum-volume songs alive with riffs and venom. Even if they didn't convert the Death Cab faithful, they certainly grabbed their attention.
The Hold Steady are a rock anomaly; a band aware of its maturity, cranking out music for a generation raised on grunge who now have to book babysitters before they hit the moshpit. Songs like "Chips Ahoy," "Constructive Summer" and "Stay Positive" told tales of drinks and drugs with the clarity of hindsight. The music echoed the big, sloppy rock of early Bruce Springsteen, their stories based in forgotten punk clubs in Minneapolis rather than the streets of New Jersey.
Admittedly, any appreciation of the band depends entirely on the listener's tolerance for frontman Craig Finn's nasal, half-spoken "singing" and his ultra-animated performance technique. He wouldn't get far on The X-Factor, but that doesn't mean he's not totally committed to every word he spews out.
Perhaps the most interesting point of the night (aside from the mystery of who booked the totally unsuitable venue) was this gaping distance between the sounds and the audiences of the two bands. The Hold Steady, bringing fast, noisy rock to the grown ups. Death Cab For Cutie providing gentle sensitivity for the kids.
Has Vancouver reached a stage when children are now berating their parents to turn that racket down? If so, something has gone terribly wrong.
