"Transatlanticism, Death Cab for Cutie's fourth album, presents a polished version of the heartstring-tugging formula that has earned the Washington state quartet its cultish following: melodic, melancholy songs about feeling both smart and confused, hopelessly romantic but wary of love. The eleven indie lullabies here -- ostensibly about a long-distance relationship -- are both tuneful and rough-edged, with singer Benjamin Gibbard's plaintive boy-next-door voice wafting delicately over crunchy guitars, piano and random percussion. The title track is an epic, fully formed tear-jerker, and more lighthearted fare such as "Expo '86" and the waltz-tempoed "Death of an Interior Decorator" get by on their childlike charm. Transatlanticism should be overwrought -- it's an album about young men enduring lost love in an ocean of memory; instead, it feels like a conversation with an old friend."  (Rolling Stone)

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"A collection of outtakes, demos and rarities, this eighteen-song disc proves that Seattle indie-rock band Death Cab for Cutie was onto something before it even got started. Like Seam or Quasi, Death Cab make icily pretty music that conveys emotion through its lack of emotion -- there's vague gloominess in Ben Gibbard's breathy, faraway voice and the creepy analog synthesizers that accompany it."  (Rolling Stone)

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"Three more captivating Death Cab songs further prove the musical ambition of the band, and their ability to pull it off. From the everything indie cover of Bjork's "All Is Full of Love" to the title track, a simmering, weepy indie pop ditty, the band has you hanging on their every note."  (In Music We Trust)

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"In just three short years, the men in Death Cab For Cutie have become the benefactors of what seems like an endless stream of critical praise. One scribe even heralded the Bellingham, Wash., quartet's 2000 album "We Have the Facts and We're Voting Yes," as the best indie rock record in 10 years. While that type of acclaim is arguable, the Ben Gibbard-steered outfit does again excel in the arena of splendid albeit sorrowful pop on its third long-player, "The Photo Album."

Jarring guitar riffs pump oxygen into "Blacking Out the Friction," but melodically sad songs like "Coney Island" and "Styrofoam Plates" mostly bind "The Photo Album." Heartbreaking observations about broken home residency line the latter, as Gibbard emotes "It's not much to say you were not quite a father/ But a donor of seeds to a poor single mother." If it's true that music of this nature doesn't get anymore heartfelt, it also rarely gets more infectious."  (Billboard.com)

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"Usually EPs disappoint me. You get a few good songs, a few throw- aways, and you're left wondering just how good the band is. Are they as good as the first two tracks, or would a full-length end up like the last two, which are obvious outtakes of something? Death Cab, however, destroy this reasoning, pissing you off for a different reason. They're so damn good, you listen to these five songs and just want more. But, they don't give you more. However, once again, unlike other EPs, these songs are repeat-able. You can just hit repeat and enjoy these songs over and over again without growing tired of them. I'll give this an A+ (a grade I NEVER give EPs)."  (In Music We Trust)

More press on THE DEATH CAB FOR CUTIE FORBIDDEN LOVE EP

"Lapping like waves on the kind, clean beaches of deliberate hypnosis, Death Cab for Cutie’s new "We Have the Facts and We’re Voting Yes" rebounds with charming, churning visions of softly spoken indie- rock. As vocals dressed in gentle reverb pull you into the swirl of circling sound the ethereal guitar’s chiming acts like some surreal alarm clock muffled by unconsciousness, shaking you awake as it lulls to back to bed. This is masterful dream pop quivering deliciously between construction and collapse. Unraveling narratives weave a veil around a cushion of insistent playing like a spiked chorus of warring metronomes lifting the inner ear to gauzy memories and diffused recollection."  (Maximum Ink)

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"Death Cab For Cutie favors a brand of off-kilter bedroom pop spiked with enough science experiment to conjure images of an Elephant 6 Northwest. Benjamin Gibbard's fragile vocals recall Elliott Smith's, and the band members play with such restraint that Nathan Good's tom- heavy drums often seem like the lead instrument. When Christopher Walla fires up his organ, Death Cab's sound approximates that of a full-band version of Quasi. The spare, obtuse pieces are interesting, but Death Cab excels when it rocks out a bit and Gibbard's thoughtful wordplay turns misanthropic, as when he dryly intones, "I think I'm drunk enough to drive you home now" on the standout "Champagne From A Paper Cup." Something About Airplanes has the aura of a young band still crafting its own voice, but working fertile ground and already producing some impressive results."  (CMJ)

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