A Death Cab for Cutie backstage pass

MESA, Ariz. — On the road with Seattle's latest musical sensation, Death Cab for Cutie ...

Directly behind the stage of the Mesa Amphitheater is an area the size of a small lobby. Two round tables are set up, and friends of the bands snack on pizzas. There are a few alcoholic beverages consumed, but it is a sober, low-key, preconcert environment.

As the twang-pop band Jenny Lewis and the Watson Twins performs, the members of Death Cab gather in a small dressing room. When the Lewis set ends, at around 7:45 p.m., technicians race to reset the stage, unloading trunk after trunk of gear. Around 8:10, Ben Gibbard, Chris Walla, Nick Harmer and Jason McGerr emerge from the dressing room, gathering in the now-darkened backstage. They trade a few light-hearted comments, then — when the house lights are turned off and the crowd howls expectantly — the Death Cabbers shift gears into nervous solemnity.

"Have a good show, guys," says Gibbard, stretching out his neck.

"You too, Ben," answers Harmer, jumping up and down in place.

Mark Duston, the tour manager, flicks on two flashlights to guide the way. And Death Cab takes the stage.

Ladies and gentlemen ...

Concert preview


Death Cab for Cutie, with Jenny Lewis and the Watson Twins, and Ted Leo and the Pharmacists,

7:30 p.m. Saturday, KeyArena, Seattle Center; $29.50 (206-628-0888 or www.ticketmaster.com).

"405," from the 2000 album "We Have the Facts and We're Voting Yes," opens the show and is followed quickly by "Your Heart Is an Empty Room" from the gold-selling "Plans."

The opening chords of "The New Year," from the "Transatlanticism" album and one of Death Cab's most rocking songs, grabs the audience's collective attention. The average age of the audience is around 20; two-thirds is female, many with the sorority look, others suggesting earnest young poets or art students. Some are obviously there to socialize, but most are paying rapt attention; every few rows, someone is quietly singing along to every song.

Unlike shows in years past, this is very businesslike, with little between-song banter. The band seems determined to give fans their money's worth, and rolls quickly from one song to the next. When there are equipment changes, such as when Walla and Gibbard take turns playing piano on subsequent songs ("Crooked Teeth" and "Summer Skin," both from "Plans"), the band members scamper around the stage, eager not to waste precious time.

With Death Cab, even the band's relatively obscure songs are favorites of some audience members. As the band begins "We Looked Like Giants," one young lady exclaims, "This is a [expletive] great song!"

Encore!

After the set-closing song "Trans-

atlanticism," the four musicians rush off stage toward the dressing room. Moments later, with the crowd pleading for more, Gibbard strides back toward the stage, where he will perform the first encore song solo. A few dozen fans are waving lighters, many more holding cellphones aloft (to take pictures, record or share the moment with a friend) as Gibbard sings the riveting "Plans" song "I Will Follow You Into the Dark."

Earlier this year, Gibbard sang that song as a duo with Elvis Costello for a VH1 Classic special. Now his partner is the audience, singing along to this dark, stirring love story.

After that, the other three Death Cabbers return to the stage, and rise to the challenge of following "I Will Follow You," with "Marching Bands of Manhattan."

Gibbard then introduces the next selection: "We want to play a song from a band from Tacoma, Washington — the greatest band ever from the Pacific Northwest. They're called the Sonics." And they launch into a raucous cover of "I'm Going Home" by the legendary '60s garage band.

The Arizona concert ends with "The Sound of Settling" (from "Transatlanticism"), and Walla impishly telling the crowd, "See you soon — keep in touch."

Thank you very much!

After the show, members of the Lewis band are munching on Mexican food as Death Cab again gathers in the dressing room for a quick post-show meeting. A few minutes later, the band emerges, one by one. Harmer heads for the tour bus. McGerr picks at the Mexican food. Gibbard rolls over on a wheeled office chair and pours himself a drink. One at a time, Walla and Gibbard come over for interviews.

Tour manager Duston cuts short Gibbard's chat — time to hit the road. He leads Gibbard in a looping walk to the bus, to avoid a group of fans gathered by the exit. On the plush bus (a far cry from the dilapidated vans Death Cab once used to hobble around the country), the four band members and their tour manager bid goodbye to a few friends; nibble snacks; and prepare to hit their bunks, where they would try to get a few hours' sleep on the drive to Las Vegas. From there: sold-out shows in Southern and Northern California, before Saturday's tour-closing concert at the Key.

As the bus engine warms up, a dozen or so fans huddle at the parking-lot gate, desperate for one last glance of Death Cab for Cutie.

Tom Scanlon: tscanlon@seattletimes.com