Five thoughts from Death Cab for Cutie at the Cosmopolitan pool

Erik Kabik/Retna

Death Cab for Cutie played Cosmo’s Boulevard Pool August 20, 2011.

By Spencer Patterson

Sunday, Aug. 21, 2011 | 4:49 p.m.

1. Scottish opener Frightened Rabbit might very well be a great live band, but I won’t be able to tell by listening to this set. A booming kick drum overpowers everything else the five musicians are doing early on, and when the sound guy finally fixes that, he also cranks the bass guitar so loud the rest of the performance is borderline painful to the ears. Too bad. Closing number “The Loneliness and the Scream”—which ends with the band trying (mostly unsuccessfully) to draw the crowd into a group chant- and clap-along—has an epic quality that makes me think this Rabbit would be far less frightening under the proper conditions.

2. Death Cab for Cutie opens with perhaps its most un-Death Cabby tune, “I Will Possess Your Heart,” off 2008’s Narrow Stairs. The song begins with a hypnotic Kraut-rock groove, repeated for several minutes as frontman Ben Gibbard moves from guitar to piano before digging into the lyrics. It’s long and noisy, and portends well for the rest of the performance. Best of all, after the bassy debacle from earlier, it sounds pristine. Whew!

3. Oh, wait, the bass is back. During fifth number “Doors Unlocked and Open,” I watch as the same sound operator from earlier walks deep into the crowd, makes some adjustments on his iPad and returns to the soundboard amidst a suddenly atrocious, low-end-devouring mix. If given a choice, I’ll usually choose too much bass over too little bass, but this is ridiculous. Vocals, guitars, piano—it’s all being overpowered by Nick Harmer’s basslines, and it’s not even his fault. It was iPad guy, who apparently has an appetite for bass that can only be sated when the roof of the Cosmo is reverberating to the point of possible collapse. Unless …

4. Just moved back. Way back. Like, to the back of the second empty pool. And back here—the spot where I saw iPad guy adjusting his levels—it sounds perfect. So basically, he’s mixed the show to appeal primarily to the least interested observers, the folks who showed up late and stood at the back to chat. Since the show (strangely) isn’t being broadcast on the giant Boulevard marquee screen, I now have the choice between seeing Death Cab or hearing its music. I choose the tunes. How cool could Ben’s hair really look tonight, right? So I settle in and start to enjoy myself (“The New Year” sounds great, by the way), and then … wtf?!

5. I’m wet. Actually, the entire back area of the crowd is wet, and looking toward the sky to figure out why. It’s not raining. Some drunk dude probably tossed a cup of beer in the air. No biggie. And then it happens again. And again. And again. Apparently, somebody on a high floor of the Cosmo tower thinks it’s hilarious to dump water onto the Death Cab crowd … at least, I really hope it’s water. Weekly Associate Editor Ken Miller speculates a super soaker must be involved. I have no earthly idea, but I’m going in search of a covered vantage point. I emerge only for the encore-capping “Transatlanticism,” a powerful close to one helluva strange night at the Cosmo pool.