There are two subjects Death Cab for Cutie founder, frontman and principal songwriter Ben Gibbard does not want to hear any more songs about.

First is writing itself. “Like, how hard is it to write,” he says. “Boo hoo. It is difficult, but don’t write a book about how hard it is to write a book. That’s a copout.”

Second is the burden of fame. “I don’t think I’d ever feel it was acceptable to write a song about how hard it is to go to a restaurant and have people look at you,” he explains.

You’ll hear neither of those topics addressed on Death Cab for Cutie’s sixth album, the new Narrow Stairs. “The thing people like about our band is that they can relate to our songs,” he figures. “I try to write about subject matter that people from all walks of life have to deal with in some capacity.”

Maybe that’s why Death Cab has seen its audience steadily grow since beginning in Seattle more than a decade ago. Mind you, the band has other charms, as well—such as the interplay among Gibbard, guitarist Chris Walla, bass player Nick Harmer and drummer Jason McGerr, which has never been better captured than on Stairs.

Gibbard has also been heard as half of the electro-pop duo the Postal Service, whose 2003 debut Give Up was a surprise hit. (The twosome’s long-in-the-works second album, he says, is “the indie-rock Chinese Democracy—when you see it in the store, you’ll know it’s coming out.”) He also composed, along with Steve Fisk, the score for the recent documentary Kurt Cobain: About a Son. We caught up with Gibbard at home in Seattle to discuss his expanding musical horizons, as well as the ongoing evolution of Death Cab for Cutie.

What was it like to be a teenager in Seattle in the early 1990s, when the grunge explosion was happening?
The lesson from that era that everybody learned was that you have to circle the wagons when the music industry comes calling. Even at that age, I knew something was rotten in Denmark, that there was something suspect about all the attention the Northwest was getting. The element of keeping it real is very important in Seattle, and the people in the Northwest have a sixth sense for spotting phonies. While I was too young to have been in a band that was caught up in the whirlwind of what was happening here, I have friends who were, and all the trepidation of dealing with the music industry was passed down to every generation after that.

For more, get the latest Issue of Performing Songwriter, ISSUE No. 109