Something About Death Cab for Cutie

When Seattle-based label Barsuk signed Death Cab for Cutie, both entities were young, fresh, innovative, original and exciting. In the 10 years since DCfC's debut release, Something About Airplanes, both band and business have aged, but in graceful ways exclusive to a fortunate few. Something About Airplanes was an important album for band, label and fans for sure, but also in that it was instrumental in giving voice to a sound that would become so identifiable with the Pacific Northwest.



Tomorrow, a limited deluxe edition reissue of Something About Airplanes will be available nationally. The reissue of Something is neither a maudlin nostalgic grasp at glory long gone nor is it just some cleverly timed holiday gimmick. With the inclusion of a "recently unearthed recording of the band's first ever Seattle show" at the Crocodile Cafe (supporting another essential Seattle band, Harvey Danger) new artwork and an essay by HD's Sean Nelson, the album is a comprehensive introduction for those not familiar with DCfC and a beautiful blue reminder of how it felt to hear them for the first time.

For more info, visit Barsuk online.

Even crackheads vote

I received an e-mail a few weeks back from Jason Bugg, a freelance writer from a small town in North Carolina asking if I'd be interested in running a piece he'd written on a band coming through Boise. When I declined, he e-mailed back, saying thanks and, in closing, mentioned that he was on his way to drive people to the polls. As caught up in the many facets of the current elections as anyone else, I asked him to elucidate. Here's the reply he sent me (I'm still laughing):



"I live in this incredibly rural town and I volunteered for the Obama campaign to drive the elderly people, those with DUI's and the meth addled to the polls today.
Seriously. I had a meth addict in the car earlier. It was weird. The lady was going on about voting for Obama because she hated Palin. It was strange. Then she made me let her out of the car at a different place. She asked me to wait for her for five minutes and then give her a ride home. I didn't want to, but the perverse part of me talked the sensible part of me into doing it. She came back into the car and I asked her if she had anything in the car that might get me into trouble and she said no. I pressed a few more times and she told me that she did in fact use in the house I waited out in front of.

What do you say to that? I just looked at her and said, "Right on," and drove her home.

This is what happens when you live in a town of only 6,000 people."

Read the full story at jasonbugg.blogspot.com.