Emily, Ari, and Julia, circa 2004
*note: Those jeans are now shorts, I’m wearing that shirt RIGHT NOW, still wear that jacket often, that backpack is 4 feet from me irl, and i need to relocate those sneakers… Not much has changed apparently.
For the sake of Old School Week, I’m here to admit that yes, I’m a youngin’. I can take it. I know I havent been around long enough to remember 60s folks, 70s funk, 80s fabulosity, 90s grungeyfuck. I’m here to speak out to you as a youth of the 00s. I had my share of 90s adult alt rock (I was raised on Semisonic and KROCK – seriously my favorite song when I was K-3rd grade was Freshman by The Verve Pipe… I’m not kidding) I remember my top 40 phase with my sony boombox in my room, radio set to Z100. I also remember the 4th grade (?) birthday party when my friends and I had a dance off to Rush (…I’m not kidding, again.) Probably my most humiliating era was when I was punk (or rather, pop punk) in 6th grade. I wore fishnet shirts, I had Good Charlotte pins on my bag, I drew checkers on the toes of my DC skate shoes.
Young Ari and her young bff Emily
But these were all just clips from the montage of my music taste (in the movie adaptation of my life.) The part where the montage slows down, lights go up, and volume raises in Christmas, 2004. Mom (or perhaps Paris, my brother) gave me Death Cab for Cutie’s Transatlanticism, and a neon pink walkman. (Alright, this is pepping me up to feel little older.) That same day I went to Puerto Rico with my Dad, stepmom and brother. My first time out of the country (…er… sort of). It was a time of beginnings, introductions, finding oneself. I listened to that CD the entire trip (which I’m going to estimate was less than a week.) I was hooked.
It was beautiful, it was powerful, it had substance, it was clever, artistic, pounding. It was the rock music of my generation that I had not yet come to embrace. It was Death Cab For mother-fucking Cutie. Ben Gibbard became my go-to musician name, my role model, my prince. (Ironically, in more recent years I have grown to fantasize about being Gibbard’s wife, the adorable songbird Zooey Deschanel.) I’m pretty sure he sang about ever tween emotion possible on that album (and probably a good amount of teenage, young adult, and late 20s-30s ones too) I can hardly begin to relate the number of AIM profiles, away messages, xanga headers, myspace layouts, and photo captions that would feature DCFC (pronounced dickfick) lyrics in those following middle school years.
I think it was also my first real concert (excluding Jingle Ball, Zootopia, and Alive @ 5s of course… (google it.)) In fact *10 minute computer search* Here’s a picture from that show! Certainly my first attempt at live photography (hm… I havent made much progress, but a got a better camera!)
The healthy pop of “Expo 86” and “Sound of Settling,” the sexiness of “We Looked Like Giants,” the nostalgia of “Title and Registration,” and, of course, the emotional and slowly amplifying 5 minute finale of “Transatlanticism.” Every song was a gem. You know when you go through phase after phase of an album where every song is your favorite at some point? DCFC WAS MY EXISTENCE, and I wont forget it (…even after Narrow Stairs…)
So here it is, Transatlanticism (2003)
- “The New Year”
- “Title and Registration” (vid)
- “Expo ’86”
- “The Sound of Settling” (vid)
- “Tiny Vessels”
- “Passenger Seat”
- “Death of an Interior Decorator”
- “We Looked Like Giants”
- “A Lack of Color”
As an old school add on bonus, I just found a survey from the same year. Thought I’d share this with you:
10 BANDS I LOVE
1. hot hot heat
2. bloc party
3. head automatica
4. postal serive/dcfc
5. straylight run
6. modest mouse
8. le tigre
9. the shins
10. the OC soundtrack ()
I was cute.
And in old school fashion, I will sign off this post like a 13-year-old-ari would sign off her 7th grade xanga post:
o the oc is on!!! :) :)