Death Cab For Cutie

Youthmovie Soundtrack Strategies’ singer Andrew almost looks like he’s going to have an emotional breakdown during their three-song set (which is cut by about 10 minutes… that’s half a song to them). Then cheeky Wakefield chappies The Cribs play contagious pop tunes, climb on the drum kit and show their pants.

It is, truth be told, a rather fine start to the evening.

Now the Death Cab fans are stood at the front, while the fans of Ben Gibbard’s other band are at the back, no doubt here to see what his – ho ho ho – side-project is like. Tonight, they needn’t worry - Death Cab For Cutie are a revelation. If there was ever a band whose time is right now, it’s theirs.

They have been crawling around the sidelines for a while, during which time Jimmy Eat World became famous for 10 minutes and Dashboard Confessional wrote some dodgy power ballads. Little did we realise, last year’s ‘Transatlanticism’ was having its lyrics learnt off-by-heart in bedrooms and bedsits; and for many people, Death Cab For Cutie are now their New Favourite Band. It’s a little surprising, perhaps, that so many are singing along to the “ooo-whoa-woo-ho” of ‘Lightness’ and, well, pretty much every song, as before tonight’s sold out show there hadn’t been a single released from the album. And its tracks make up the majority of the set, save for a few old(er) favourites such as ‘Movie Script Ending’ and ‘We Laugh Indoors’. You know what? This turns out to be no bad thing at all.

With some cheeky banter throughout, Gibbard announced that their gig is the “anti-corporate” affair of London that evening. Students cheer, before going to the bar next door to buy more pints of Carling. “You write great songs!” shrieks a young lovelorn lass, although the band can’t work out a word she’s saying.

As DiS shuffles backwards near the end, to the other band fan section (and the smattering of music industry people who couldn’t blag into the NME awards), ‘Transatlanticism’ pipes up for a potential lighters aloft moment. One bloke scowls to his mate that it “must be their Coldplay song”. With its ‘Politik’-drum pounding, you can see his point. It is, however, a bloody amazing and beautiful song. So shut up.

With it all finished, “no ‘Styrofoam Plates’?!” scowls DiS, scrapping half a star from their review score.