Death Cab for Cutie frontman Ben Gibbard, left, with bandmates Nick Harmer, center, and Jason Mc Gerr.
Death Cab for Cutie: The Billboard Shoot"I'm not going to change the way I've always written for fear of people correctly or incorrectly assigning a name and face to these songs," says Gibbard, sitting in Atlantic's Manhattan offices, still wearing a brace on the wrist he broke while running a 50K race in February.
"I've always written about my life and the lives of people around me, and how everything intersects."Listen to Death Cab for Cutie's New Song 'The Ghosts of Beverly Drive'The son of a Navy officer, Gibbard moved around a lot as a kid, but grew up primarily in Bremerton, Wash., where he fell hard for punk and indie rock.
The band's first record since 2011's somewhat glazed-over "Codes and Keys," it opens with "No Room in Frame," in which the singer asks an unnamed ex, "Was I in your way when the cameras turned to face you?
" Other songs mention an ingénue battling the passage of time and "a dumpster in the driveway of all the plans that came undone."Yet Gibbard's divorce isn't the only breakup reflected on in "Kintsugi," whose title refers to an ancient Japanese technique for repairing broken pottery.
To a generation of geeky-cool indie kids like Seth, Gibbard was a sympathetic voice, a fellow nerd who wrote earnestly about love and heartbreak. ), but admits it's "fairly obvious." And Deschanel isn't the only A-lister who might think the album hits too close to home.