There's something about the Pacific Northwest. Perhaps it's being overshadowed by towering evergreens that instills a modest reverence for beauty. Perhaps it's the evergreens remaining ever green under the gusts of snow which keeps hope alive. Perhaps it's the cradling of cold coast and the Rocky wall. Whatever the causes, the Pacific Northwest has played womb to some of the most skyward, heart-wrenching, and gentle pop music of recent history.

The trademarks of the Northwest sound continue to be cherubic eunuchs on vocals, crisp production, slow rollercoaster melodies, and tales of crushes and the crushed. Built to Spill, Elliott Smith, Quasi, Sunny Day Real Estate, and even Modest Mouse and Caustic Resin, to some extent, all revolve around this central axis of Northwestern pop. In two short albums, Death Cab for Cutie have firmly established a stylistic nexus from which all of these bands spoke. Like history in reverse, We Have the Facts and We're Voting Yes documents the proto-Northwest sound as a footnote to a decade of tranquilizing rock.

Death Cab for Cutie effortlessly weep gems like a band stuck deep in a comfortable career. Subcutaneous organ and glockenspiel infuse warm, rich tones which bruise slowly between skeletal percussion and waxy guitar pickings. Sometimes the band patiently fills wooden cathedrals with echoes of reverberating slowcore, like on "No Joy in Mudville" and "The Employment Pages." The latter builds to an e-bow climax that weakens like a welcome influenza. "For What Reason," "Lowell, MA," and "Company Calls" click along at quick clips, yet maintain the shroud of delicate beauty thanks to Ben Gibbard's lachrymose wails. From a distance, the group appears manilla. Yet even top secret documents come stuffed in manilla. Subtle technological flourishes glimmer under the organic pulp like microchips in lumberjacking valleys.

If fault can be found, it's Death Cab for Cutie's continual quest to shine a diamond from petrified wood and dark coal instead of letting some of the rough, raw rock pass through. But then again, that's why the Northwest gave us Modest Mouse and Built to Spill. Guitar heroics can be found elsewhere. Death Cab for Cutie have a killer name and lugubrious elixir. The hooks are barbless and coated in Novocaine. They pull through your skin and leave obscure scars. But in today's rock climate, this sort of gentle niche makes for a relaxing vacation with some good prospects of getting laid.

-Brent DiCrescenzo