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Death Cab for Cutie Brothers on a Hotel Bed 4 minutes, 31 seconds |
Anyone who has heard Death Cab’s 2003 effort Transatlanticism is aware of the sumptuous aural feast Ben Gibbard is capable of setting the table of one’s ear with. Ambient traffic noise is used to delicious effect in A Lack of Color, its subtle careening vehicular dissonance mirroring the accidents a soul weathers after a lover’s tiff.
But with Brothers on a Hotel Bed, the trio has broached a subject uncommon to modern emopopfolkrock: incest. And I’m not sure I would entrust the delicate topic to any other band. Soothing piano over reverby, oppositely-doubled glissandoes introduces us to this uncomfortable region of lifespace, where siblings share sleeping accommodations.
The lyric is, as always, inspired: turned your way and saw / something he was not looking for / both a beginning and an end standing in to describe the recursive nature of erotic brotherly love. But the song is by no means sexual — its clinicism is required for the listener to ease themselves into this world.
It is a world few souls inhabit, and I feel richer having experienced it through the tear-streaked windshield of this Cab.