They think of the perfect places to put things that the average person would never bother to look, but when they do it all makes perfect sense.

University of Missouri, Columbia, Mo.

If April shower bring may flowers, May showers must bring delays for hours. There were five of us going to see Death Cab for Cutie in Columbia, but only three of us got there; two of our party were wooed away by the allure of "green seats" at Busch Stadium. Once the downpours started, it didn't look like the remnants of our expedition would see Death Cab, either. Thankfully, that wasn't the case, and I can tell you about the concert that allowed me to remember Columbia as the place where I saw an incredible show by the one band that makes breaking up a prerequisite for appreciating their music, in the town where the gal who dumped me after four years lives. Irony, we got it by the ton.

For me, it makes sense that Ben Gibbard would write so many songs about longing and disappointment. When you have a gift for wordplay and expressing heartfelt universalities in novel ways, it's a challenge not to deal out platitudes or jaded altruisms. It's harder to be genuine, because deep down we all have feelings that are more alike than dissimilar. So to be genuine, yet unique, is doubly challenging. Complicate that by being realistic about life, taking the good with the bad, and a creative type is faced with an existential crisis. Death Cab for Cutie seemingly released unique, emotionally genuine music grounded in the realities of life consistently for just about 10 years. Their pervasive sentiment seems to say, "Nothing is easy in life, except failure, and failure isn't enough"; this show was a shining example of how to turn a sentiment into a conviction, and conviction into action.

Outdoor shows in late May in Missouri are always a dice roll from disaster. St. Louis gets hit pretty hard, but Central Missouri gets slammed. It was news to me that they were staging a concert in downtown Columbia, home of Mizzou and not much else worth mentioning for this article. Their downtown is along the lines of the Loop or Central West End here in St. Louis, except that it's hilly terrain. That doesn't mean much, unless of course the sky opens up and the stage is at the foot of the hill. That said, instead of letting hot and anxious people in at 6 p.m., at 8:20 p.m., after the gear and gizmos had dried enough not to fry the bands and the stage had ceased being as slick as a plastic pool full of Jello shots, we could start the show. That hot, anxious crowd had become a damp and sticky, anxious crowd. It was also a sell-out crowd. An entire block of a city street worth of people were there, many coming in from St. Louis based on ball caps and conversations. When Rogue Wave took the stage, everyone was ready for something to happen, something good—and it did.

MySpace profiles can be a blessing and a curse for a band; in the case of Rogue Wave, their set put their MySpace playlist to shame. When I think of Oakland, I think of Too Short, MC Hammer and Steroids. You'll be surprised to know Rogue Wave didn't sound like or reference any of these things. My friend who drove to the show played some of their material in the car over our ride and there were songs that caught my attention, but I don't think they played any of those songs. They said their hellos, ingratiated themselves and got people moving. They were the perfect opening band, full of energy, not far removed stylistically from Death Cab's more energetic material, and talented to no end. Zach Rogue, vocalist, guitarist and the brains behind the whole project, set the tone with an upbeat attitude and the talent and presence to match. Their set was only briefly interrupted to let us know they knew we were waiting for Death Cab, and so were they, and it was a great thrill for them to be able to see Death Cab play every night. That enthusiasm must have been a motivational tool 'cause they were lively, and as the sun went down on their set, they had made believers out of our little party of three. Does it matter that they smiled and had a good time? Yup, because it's hard to do that if the people staring at you aren't doing the same. In 40 minutes they proved every pretentious record store/elitist music journalist right by delivering the goods. As my friend Mike said, "They were the best openers I've seen in a long time." In 1993 he saw Radiohead open up for Aerosmith, so he might be on to something there.

Four hours before Death Cab took the stage, as we rolled down Broadway, I saw a guy on a cell phone who looked like producer extraordinaire Chris Walla, also known as the guitarist for Death Cab. He seemed to be wandering, or at the least trying to get oriented. Either way, I told the rest of the amigos, and they blew it off -- that is, until we parked downtown and I led us to 9th Street. I was hoping to find a good place to eat, all the while avoiding places my ex or her friends might frequent. As we crossed 9th and Broadway, there he was coming up the street; Chris Walla was just strolling the streets of Columbia, relatively undisturbed. So I just decided to break the seal of anonymity, shouting, "Have a great show!" five paces after passing him on the intersection. He turned around, smiled and said, "Thanks." In a humble way, that I now take as a red herring. He should have said, "The dude abides..."

There was a funny thing about Death Cab's set: there were little flubs and glitches, a vintage keyboard the rain had been unkind to, and yeah, that torrential downpour that pushed everything back 2.5 hours. But you know what, they delivered nonetheless (veiled Postal Service reference intended). They took the stage and cut loose, high energy and fully animated, and I can honestly say I've never seen someone dance with a guitar ever so constantly while singing distinct as a bell's tone in my life. Ben Gibbard's reedy voice never fails to be in key, on time, and clear as a whistle, the melodic heartbeat of a band that puts other four-piece bands to shame with their sheer scope and expanse of tones and feels.

Though the sun went down on downtown, they painted with all the colors of a Missouri sunset, cool and warm alike, all of this anchored by Nick Harmer's omnipresent and ever melodic bass lines. Those melodies anchor everything Death Cab does, and the rest of the band knows how to layer more imaginative sounds per song than a lot of groups manage on albums without coming off too cerebral or overly technical. Walla always finds the perfect moment to switch from keys to guitar or vice versa, Jason McGerr's always got a novel beat to accentuate the rhythm of the tune, and never overplays. His drumming is the sail that catch all the air the amps move, powering the ship ever forward in harmony with the tides and winds. The occasional harmony from Walla, and to my surprise, Harmer is always the icing on the cake. It's just brilliant music. Not brilliant like well-cast sunlight at the end of a restful night's sleep, or Quantum Physics or String Theory—brilliant like finding your keys after searching for two hours and going out to check outside, and hearing that sweet jingle as you turn the knob and pull the door open. They think of the perfect places to put things that the average person would never bother to look, but when they do it all makes perfect sense.

There is one thing about Death Cab for Cutie: they are deadly consistent in the quality of their material. There is a wide scope of vibes, but they paint from these colors, so it's easy to get lost in an album—and in this case, concert—struggling to remember setlist sequences. I get lost in the thrill of how great the songs are, and records for that matter, so that said, here's the highlights of what they played, in order of the album they appeared on:

Something About Airplanes: "Fake Frowns"

We Have the Facts and We are Voting Yes: "405," "Company Calls," "Company Calls Epilogue"

The Photo Album: "We Laugh Indoors," "A Movie Script Ending," "Why You'd Want to Live Here," "Blacking Out the Friction," "Coney Island" (with an extended drum loop intro due to keyboard malfunction)

Transatlantacism: "This Is the New Year," "Title and Registrations" (encore), "Expo '86," "Sound of Settling" (dedicated to Rogue Wave), "Transatlanticism" (which the crowd went wild for)

Plans : "Summer Skin," "Soul Meets Body," "Crooked Teeth," "Your Heart Is an Empty Room," "I Will Follow You Into the Dark" (as a rousing number sung by the sold-out congregation of Death Cab Fans and dedicated to the ones who were in Columbia a few years back for show with The Decemberists)

Narrow Stairs : "I Will Possess Your Heart," "Bixby Canyon Bridge" (show opener), "Cath...," "Grapevine Fires," "I Will Possess Your Heart"

Oddly enough, the band was gracious with their thanks, and you got the impression that they didn't really think everyone who showed up knew who they were, as they repeatedly told the crowd, "Thanks a lot, we're Death Cab For Cutie." You would think the hundreds of people singing along and marveling would be a tip off. But if their night was better by the notion that they played to a crowd of folks from mid-Missouri with nothing to better to do than wait two hours in the rain to hear two bands they'd never heard of, so be it. I think it's more impressive that they could lift up a sea of fans (the line at show time was between four and five people and circled an entire city block, ultimately filling the block of the Blue Note and its adjacent businesses). It's saying something to sell out a city block—not The Pageant, a city block. It's official folks: Death Cab for Cutie is the real deal, and the bandwagon is gonna need a trailer hitch. | Willie Smith

Photos courtesy Ben Mudd.

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