Arts·Exclusive

How the Postal Service hit such great heights

On Commotion, an exclusive 20th-anniversary oral history of The Postal Service’s only album Give Up from musician Ben Gibbard.

Ben Gibbard tells us the story behind a game-changing indie-pop classic on its 20th anniversary

Ben Gibbard of The Postal Service performs during Coachella Music Festival. ((Mario Anzuoni/Reuters))

Many aspiring musicians dream of making a record that leaves an impression on popular culture for decades to come, through songs that soundtrack pivotal scenes in prime-time TV dramas, get played at weddings, and are tattooed onto fans' arms. After a half-decade toiling in the indie-rock trenches, Ben Gibbard achieved just that in 2003. Twice.

In October of that year, his group Death Cab for Cutie released its commercial breakthrough, Tranatlanticism, the record that transformed the Bellingham, Washington indie-rockers from acclaimed cult act to Seth Cohen's favourite band. But Gibbard was well-prepared for Death Cab's sudden leap into the spotlight, because just a few months prior, he'd already released another game-changing album that exceeded his wildest expectations: Give Up, the first and only album from his other creative outlet, The Postal Service.

The Postal Service Band
The Postal Service band (Brian Tamborello)

The Postal Service are arguably the most influential band in indie history that never really existed. It was more like a musical pen-pal project between Gibbard and L.A.-based producer Jimmy Tamborello, better known in experimental electronic circles as Dntel. Shortly after the two were introduced through their mutual friend Pedro Benito (of L.A. emo act The Jealous Sound), Gibbard lent his vocals to Tamborello's track "This Is the Dream of Evan and Chan," which appeared on Dntel's 2001 album Life Is Full of Possibilities. Upon hearing the song, famed Seattle indie label Sub Pop swiftly offered the duo a deal to make a full album's worth of similarly fizzy electronic-pop ditties. Once Gibbard and Tamborello settled into their long-distance working relationship, with the two trading tapes by mail, the partnership was christened The Postal Service.

As Gibbard explains in an exclusive 20th-anniversary oral history for Commotion, the chance to work with Tamborello came at an especially opportune time — by the end of 2001, he wasn't entirely sure if Death Cab for Cutie was still a band. "We got very close to breaking up on Halloween of that year," he says. "We had this big blowout on tour, and one of the things we realized after we had that big fight was we really needed time off. We had been running and gunning for almost five years at that point, and we were very fearful of losing momentum. Every decision we were making was from a place of fear."

Musician Ben Gibbard gives us an exclusive 20th-anniversary oral history of The Postal Service's only album Give Up.

With Death Cab on indefinite hiatus, Gibbard experienced what he calls "the most fruitful, creative time of my life." He could write songs for Death Cab without the looming pressure to get into the studio or out on the road, while the weekly delivery of tapes he was receiving from Tamborello reconnected him with formative influences that his main band couldn't accommodate. "One of the many things that I loved about the music that Jimmy was sending me was that it was very pop-oriented," Gibbard says. "It harkened back to a style of music we had grown up with in the '80s — the dawn of new wave/electro pop, and bands like OMD, Depeche Mode, and Human League."

Those groups may comprise an obvious checklist of reference points for any synth-driven indie-pop band today, but back in 2002, synth-driven indie-pop bands weren't really a thing. The Postal Service were entering a musical landscape still in the throes of Strokesmania, and the duo's tender electronic lullabies couldn't have been more out of step with the prevailing penchant for garage-rock guitars and disaffected cool. But the duo's music offered a more sincere alternative to young romantics who preferred to cuddle on the couch than hook up in a dive-bar toilet stall. "Indie rock as we had known it in the early aughts was fairly detached," Gibbard observes. "Look no further than the New York/Brooklyn scene that's now being revisited through the book and the documentary, Meet Me in the Bathroom. I love a lot of that music, but none of it really had anything heartfelt to say, you know? So I think we slipped in at the right time by bringing some earnestness and classic songwriting elements to a genre of music that had been lacking that for a while."

Cover Art for The Postal Service's Give Up
Album art for The Postal Service's Give Up (The Postal Service)

When Give Up was released in February 2003, Sub Pop forecasted sales in the 10,000 range — a realistically modest showing for a side-project featuring two critically acclaimed but relatively unknown musicians. What's more, beyond a brief club tour, Gibbard and Tamborello had no plans to seriously promote the record — to them, Give Up was simply a one-off diversion before the two returned to their principal gigs. But thanks to effervescent singles like "Such Great Heights" and "We Will Become Silhouettes," sales of Give Up had rocketed past the 100,000 mark by summer of 2003, en route to moving over a million copies, making it Sub Pop's second-best selling album of all time after Nirvana's Bleach. But beyond the impressive SoundScan stats, the album has had an incalculable influence on indie rock over the past two decades, by ushering the genre into the digital age and opening up a space where tech-minded tunesmiths like Hot Chip, M83, Future Islands, and Sylvan Esso could thrive.

The album's legacy has been amplified by the fact that Gibbard and Tamborello have rarely indulged it — for them, Give Up has been less a cornerstone of their creative lives than a fondly remembered distant relative they reconnect with every 10 years or so at family gatherings. After reuniting for a 10th-anniversary jaunt in 2013, The Postal Service (with go-to guest singer Jenny Lewis in tow) will make another rare return to the road this fall as the opening act for Death Cab's 20th-anniversary campaign for Transatlanticism. But if Gibbard isn't exactly interested in extending The Postal Service saga beyond this tour, he certainly doesn't take the duo's enduring popularity for granted. 

"I feel very fortunate that I was involved with making something that has had this kind of impact in people's lives," Gibbard says. "It's pretty heavy to realize that you made a record that's meant so much to people, they want to come see it 20 years later."

The Postal Service's tour kicks off September 5 in Washington, DC. There are sadly no Canadian dates on the itinerary (yet), so head to their website to start plotting your cross-border road trip. However, Death Cab for Cutie will be performing (without The Postal Service) in Toronto, Calgary, and Vancouver this June.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Stuart Berman is a writer and producer in Toronto. He is an associate producer at Commotion with Elamin Abdelmahmoud, as well as a regular contributor to Pitchfork, and is the author of books about Broken Social Scene and Danko Jones.