I can’t imagine this is a much of a surprise to anyone even passingly familiar with Death Cab for Cutie’s Chris Walla–have you seen the wave and the “hi” onstage?–but the guitarist/producer/songwriter is a pleasure to chat with. Last Friday, he spoke with WW over the phone from his Portland home about his solo debut, the fairly recent confiscation of his computer’s hard drive at the Canadian border and how it feels to be back on an indie label (the one that birthed DCFC, at that) for his first solo release. There’s a longer intro/shorter interview version here. But for the full shebang, read our uncut conversation below.

WW: I’ve always thought of you as one of these ultimate indie rock wingmen. How does it feel to finally give your own music the kind of attention you so often give to other people’s songs?
Walla: It feels weird to do a whole album worth of stuff. And it feels a little weird to talk about it. I’ve been writing songs for years. Like since before high school and since before anyone in my band and I’ve never really quit doing that. So that part of it doesn’t feel so awkward necessarily. It was really more just doing it for a full like 10-12-14-16 tracks at a time. That was really the weirdest part.

Is this the most that you’ve ever just sat down and just focused on your own music?
Oh, absolutely. Yeah without a doubt.

What’s weird about it?
The weirdest thing about it was to discover that I’m kind of incapable of producing my own record like completely myself. I maybe sort of suspected that a little. But I didn’t know to what degree it was actually going to be true. I really only finished three to four of the songs myself. Then I was totally burned out. And I knew if I was going to finish the thing I was going to have to hire somebody to help me. So at that point, I had to decided essentially whether or not I wanted the record to be done. When I decided yes I hired…old-school English producer Warne Livesey.

Do you have a hard time asking for help?
I have a hard time asking for help with stuff that I don’t feel like I’m supposed to ask for help with. Does that make any sense? Like if this was someone else’s record and I’d been hired to produce it I’d feel really weird about calling somebody else in. But I have no problems with if it’s my thing and it’s my songs. It just seemed like the right thing to do.

How much do you think you work, either playing with DCFC and or all the production work with artists like the Decemberists and Tegan and Sara, has affected your own style?
I think that there are probably little pieces of every record I’ve worked on in the last like eight years in this record. I mean, some of them are no more than the way that I mic’d that one thing that one time. And then some of them are arrangement ideas and some of them are little—like there’s a couple of changes I’ve heard people use and either then commit to or abandon at different points. You know, there are the sorts of things that you stack four or five of those together [and] then you’re stealing a song from somebody. But when you go from this one chord to that other one chord, and it’s in a completely different context, it’s just a trick just like any other trick. I don’t feel bad about that kind of stuff.

Where you are coming from as a producer…where did you get your breadth of experience?
I don’t know, I was always kind of the guy with the four-track and a couple of microphones; I guess that’s sort of how it started. And then, you know, I continued to meet people who didn’t have four-track or microphones, and I could record them. I liked doing it. Then the four-track turned into an eight-track, and I moved to Bellingham. That’s when I met Ben and he and I started playing music together. Then I recorded the first couple Death Cab records and now all the Death Cab records, and I’ve just sort of started recording with people I’ve met through our band. How I ended up here [in Portland]—I think that has everything to do with the Decemberists [recording Picaresque].

What are your feelings on the inevitable Death Cab and Ben Gibbard comparisons?
I’m totally fine with that. If people were like, “Dude, it’s totally a Death Cab ripoff,” I’d be a little sad ’cause I’ve been playing in that band since it started—there are some similarities. But it’s a similar thing and it’s a different thing. I think that if this points out for people what I do in that band, like exactly, that’s great. And if it points out exactly what I don’t do in that band, for better or worst in both cases, that’s totally great. I really just don’t—it’s not a—it’s a non-thing. I mean I love my band I love Ben’s songs. It’s all tied together, I guess.

Is it daunting to be linked to so many great songwriters and then step out on your own?
Yes and no. If there is any single thing that I really, really focused on for this record and like really did everything I could to get totally straight, it was just getting the writing to a place where I was really proud of it. Where every word that came out of my mouth was something I really felt good about. And I felt good about how it was glued together and I felt good about the presentation and my singing for as much as I’m able. And I feel like I nailed all that stuff. I’m really, really proud of it. I just wanted to prove to myself that I could say the things that I’ve wanted and needed to say and feel good about it. So I mean comparisons and contrasting feelings are whatever—I don’t know; I’m strangely, really, disaffected by it, like I can’t wait to see that 2 to 3 point review that comes out on Pitchfork—I really don’t care that much—you know, whatever.

Was there anything better or different about releasing Field Manual on [Death Cab's old indie label] Barsuk?
It’s so nice. It’s what I understand; it’s what I know. And more and more and more indie labels are the way of the future, like it’s the only manageable size of anything in the entertainment business…there’s just no way the majors are going to survive. There’s such a massive gaping hole in the side of that ship and there’s still people trying to figure out how to steer it. Nobody’s jumping off yet…to be fair [Death Cab For Cutie's] experience at Atlantic has been awesome. Certainly no regrets with them making that leap. But…you know, there’ve been a few little weird things for us like, “Oh, you guys do it like that? That’s kind of weird.” But Barsuk’s my home. I’m friends with all of those people. I understand their business model. I understand why they make the decisions they make. It’s a really good place.

I tend to think that the best, most timeless political songs aren’t overly specific as far as subject matter is concerned; is Field Manual intentionally vague?
I did make a conscious effort actually, yeah. There’s so much baggage in those protest songs and protest singers. And people talk about being postmodern and post-postmodern, but it’s really struck me in the last couple of years how we have a script for everything. After the shooting at Virginia Tech…there was this whole feature [on public radio show On the Media]. The first 12 minutes of the show were all about how it felt to them, the editors, with everything that was happening around it, and certainly not to diminish the tragedy of the incident in any way, but they talked about how they felt like there was a script for everything. Like in terms of reporting, in terms of the people being interviewed, the whole thing was about how in the very depths of mourning and sadness [and] tragedy, how people somehow knew what to say—in a post-Columbine world. Nobody had put a point on it like that…but I think there is some real truth in it. And I’ve sort of been thinking about protests and protest songs and protest singers and why is it that—to write a protest song is so hopelessly uncool? I think that the reason for it has to do with the fact that there’s a script for it. And the script is for a play that people don’t necessarily want to remember. They don’t really like the outcome or the players.

Since the attention over the confiscation of your hard drive, do you think people are going to look for the political side of the album?
I guess I sort of hope so. First and foremost I hope that people just enjoy it as a pop album. I typically don’t like to be brow beaten during the course of a record. There are a few exceptions. I think that Ted Leo is really exceptional at doing the political pop song thing. He’s so charismatic—he could sell you the biggest bill of lies.

You weren’t bashful about being pissed off about that whole ordeal. Is it all water under the bridge at this point?
Well, yeah and what happened was my anger, my distaste and distrust was based on the fact that we didn’t have any information for what was going on. And when I talked about it being a black hole and when I made a joke about it and [said on my blog], “It may as well be at Guantánamo; it’s probably being water boarded for all I know,” that was based on—it’s a black hole—where is it? And the reason we didn’t know where it was was because DHS and border security had flagged the fellow who was bringing it over as the importer, and that fellow was the intern at the studio where this thing was…it was this massive disconnect. I had a really super good conversation with the DHS…office in Seattle. You know it’s like this stuff happens all the time. Something important gets taken, and nobody knows it’s important and nobody knows what happens to it and then it’s a press story. I think it was implied in the AP story that the drive was confiscated because of it’s content. The border has enough Fourth Amendment issues to deal without getting involved in First Amendment issues. That’s not their thing. They don’t care. So [the DHS official] took great offense to that, and he also took great offense to the Guantánamo comment. That was the only thing I was sort of disappointed by…because that’s fair game! It’s a real black hole. I stand by that as marginally funny. The short version of it is that was the whole thing was basically a huge misunderstanding.

Links:
WallaSpace
Hall of Justice
LocalCut’s Cut of the Day for “Sing Again,” from Field Manual.

Field Manual comes out Tuesday, Jan. 29. Photo: taken by Ryan Russell, borrowed from a Google image search.