I’ve always had a complicated relationship with that record. When “Give Up” came out, it very quickly surpassed where Death Cab was, sales-wise. It became this ubiquitous cultural phenomenon. Everyone in Death Cab was supportive of me, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel some tension around the success of the Postal Service.
I want to be very clear that I’m not trying to cry with two loaves of bread in my hand. It was humbling and moving to see the response to “Give Up.” At this point in my life, I’m of the opinion that if you’ve made one thing that has an impact on another human being, you’ve succeeded. And the 2013 tour allowed me to be in those songs again. Being in front of people who love that album closed a circle that I needed to close.
Both “Give Up” and “Transatlanticism” sold over 500,000 copies, blowing the ceiling off expectations for an indie band. What did it feel like to be at the center of a transformation of the scene?
To someone becoming a sentient music fan in the late ’80s and early ’90s, selling 50,000 copies was indie-rock gold and platinum. The dream in 1997 and 1998 was only to not have a job while on tour. In 2003, a lot of people of my generation found themselves in music supervision in TV, movies and commercials and could suddenly say, “I don’t want to use Paula Cole in this teen drama, let’s use Death Cab, or Bright Eyes, or Modest Mouse.”
I think that was what started the drive of indie rock into the mainstream — or at least as close to the mainstream as it could get. People in decision-making positions wanted to use the music they loved, at a moment, in the late ’90s and early 2000s, when mainstream rock ’n’ roll was the worst it’s ever been. People who like classic rock, or were into the Cure or Depeche Mode, said, “You know what? There must be an alternative to Creed.” There was a thirst for a change, and as the internet started disseminating pop culture, suddenly there was an avenue to find out about it.
So I was pleased that the music we were making was reaching a larger audience. But I was also a 28-year-old who wasn’t used to the attention that comes from both adoration and scorn. I’m not going to say it was an incredibly difficult time in my life, but it’s only now, 20 years later, that I’m able to have a real appreciation for what these records accomplished and what a unique situation we found ourselves in.
