Christopher Walla

Chris Walla, Death Cab for Cutie guitarist and producer for acts like The Decemberists and Tegan and Sara, has put out solo material before—usually lo-fi recordings released under a pseudonym. Field Manual, his first proper solo record, gets the full treatment of Walla's trademark shiny production. And from a strictly musical standpoint, the album is characteristically strong. It's filled with melodic washes and intricate instrumentation, though Walla does occasionally sound silly when he's trying too hard to rock, as on "Archer v. Light."

However, what's been reported about Field Manual ad nauseam is that it's a political record—which is true. At the same time, Walla's politics seem to be intensely private. There's no flag burning here, nor does he call out Bush by name. The most direct comment made is in reference to the post-Katrina FEMA trailers on "Everyone Needs a Home," but even then he just wants to fall asleep next to the love of his life. Walla also touches on Iraq with the rock anthem "The Score" and abortion on "Sing Again," which subtly lifts the rhythm from "London Calling."

Despite the passionate subject matter, though, Walla is deliberately indirect on Field Manual; he's trying to avoid preaching, but you can't help but feel like he's sidestepping his own conversation. He brings the topics to the table, and then sings about them with vague, hard to understand metaphors. Though the album certainly has its strengths, Field Manual ultimately feels like an idea that isn't fully realized.

—Nathan Atnikov
01.31.08

After years of yielding the spotlight to fellow Death Cabber Ben Gibbard, Chris Walla finally moves to center stage with Field Manual. Fans of Death Cab's Transatlanticism (particularly the album's second half, with its emphasis on ballads and slow-motion moodiness) will be pleased with this solo effort, since Field Manual delivers the same brand of reflective, mid-tempo indie pop. Even the faster songs seem to rarely break a sweat (with the exception of standout track "The Score"), and their quickened pace takes a backseat role to Walla's gauzy vocals and politically minded lyrics. There's nothing like "I'll Follow You into the Dark" here, no song so adorably sweet and saccharine that teenagers will clamor to slow-dance to it at their high school proms. Instead, Walla targets the head -- not the heart -- while delivering songs about crooked senators, sustainability, and American soldiers. "All hail an imminent collapse," he sings on the first track, opening the album with several seconds of layered a cappella. "You can fumble for your maps, but we're exhausted by the facts." The political commentary is sharp, and Walla smartly refuses to channel the "Rise up!" spirit of someone like Bruce Springsteen, since an indie pop release simply couldn't bear that kind of weight. But given the album's release date -- at the tail-end of January 2008, as senators and governors vie for presidential candidacy -- Field Manual still comes across as surprisingly intelligent, its political themes bolstered by the multi-instrumental skills that Walla honed with Death Cab. He tackles most of the instruments himself, adding occasional bits of electronic percussion to a mix of electric guitars, piano, organ, and standard rhythm. If there's one weak point in this performance, it's the fact that Walla's voice rarely breaks out of the background-vocals mould. He can certainly sing, but years of providing seamless harmonies for Gibbard have given his pipes a clear, breathy quality that threatens to lull the listener into a trance during the album's final stretch. Still, Field Manual is a very nice public bow from someone who, prior to 2008, spent much of his time in the production booth and/or on the sidelines. ~ Andrew Leahey, All Music Guide