Whether their music is rocking on The O.C. or in videos like “The Sound of Settling,” Death Cab for Cutie’s craft is as expansive as the title of their new album Transatlanticism suggests. In the midst of the band’s tour preparations, mtvU hailed Death Cab for Cutie’s Ben Gibbard–and he chatted up everything from upchucking into a carriage and a jones for Milwaukee while he squirmed in our Hot Seat.
Q: Tell us about your craziest touring experience.
A: My craziest tour story is way too long to tell here, but I can say it involves a ferry full of Mallorcan soccer fans, almost throwing up in a baby carriage, a drunk-driving Spaniard who couldn’t find the airport at 5:00 a.m., poopy pants and lost luggage all in the course of 24 hours of straight travel.
Q: What type of college class would you most want to take and why?
A: I think I already took all the ones I wanted to, most of which have proven of no use in my present state of employment.
Q: What city in America is the most fun to visit and why?
A: Milwaukee, because the drinks are cheap and there’s enough untapped irony to keep you wildly amused for days.
Q: What’s some of the best advice you were ever given?
A: You have to know when to pick your battles.
Q: What’s in heavy rotation in your mp3/CD player right now?
A: The new Lali Puna record Faking the Books.
Q: The last good book you read or TV show you’re addicted to.
A: I just read The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle by Haruki Murakami on this last Death Cab Tour and I can honestly say it’s the best book I’ve read in the last two years.
Q: What’s the first concert you ever saw? How was it?
A: My first real show was the sup pop ultra Lamefest in 1992. It was f—ing awesome.
Q: What are three items you can’t live without on tour?
A: My iPod, a book that I’m meaning to read but not doing a very good job at, and a running inside joke that’s gone on way too long.
Q: Who are your major musical influences?
A: Guitars, drums and pianos.
Q: What random messages or tips would like to give to mtvU watchers?
A: Nick from Death Cab and I were roommates in college. I spent all my time busting my ass literally screaming at physics, chemistry and biology texts while he ran around bulls—-ing his way through English exams and staying out all night with theatre department kids. Two years after graduation, we found ourselves at the same crappy warehouse job in the seedy industrial area of Seattle. I think the moral of this story is obvious.
