When Photo Albums Were Still Around

Already there's a tribute album for "Is This It"? Sure, I think the record captured a moment in time better than any other of the past 20 years has. But its songs, no matter how catchy they are, aren't expertly written, and that moment seems almost quaint now, with New York on edge, the country united around it, and the U.S.'s economy and international status relatively secure. In the end, the Strokes flamed out around 2004, and even when cultural cycles zoom by at hyper speeds, 10 years is a brief amount of time to wait before canonizing a piece of art.

Released at the same time as "Is This It," but to much less fanfare, was Death Cab for Cutie's "The Photo Album." No one should make a tribute album for this one, either, but it might actually be the record with the longer-lasting influence. Surprisingly enough, Death Cab for Cutie's career arc has become the template during the past 10 years for how indie rock bands ascend to widespread popularity: Value production quality from the start; write lyrics that appeal to teenagers but are nonetheless meaningful; have your songs featured in the background of TV shows and commercials (for Death Cab, it was "The O.C."); jump to a major label when the timing seems right; release a wildly successful side project (though I'd take lead singer Ben Gibbard's EP as All-Time Quarterback, with a great cover "Why I Cry," over the Postal Service; good luck finding that one!); and tour, tour, tour. Over time, you become erudite and ubiquitous.

At the time of its release, my friend Drew and Pitchfork wrote in their reviews that "The Photo Album" was an appropriate title for the record because photo albums are there for you to leaf through and recall treasured moments, and "The Photo Album" reminds you that "We Have the Facts and We're Voting Yes" is the easily superior record. Nonetheless, "The Photo Album" stands the test of time well, with its nostalgic, pensive opener, "Steadier Footing," the sweetly drum-machine-heavy paean to sunny early spring spring days, "Coney Island," and the shredding of L.A. in "Why Would You Want to Live Here?" That this album is also now 10 years old makes me feel old. I remember listening to it freshman year of college, as I dived too deeply into the world of indie rock. That was 10 years ago?! I probably have a photo album somewhere to memorialize it, though not on Facebook.

Coincidentally and humorously, after listening to "The Photo Album" two consecutive nights this week, the next day standing outside the bike shop in my building was a young man wearing a Death Cab T-shirt, looking right at me. I wonder if he knew I was listening to the record. Above is an independently made video of "Coney Island."