We here at DCist go to a lot of concerts. A trip to the 9:30 Club is usually less "event of the season" and more "Wednesday." Last night's Stars and Death Cab For Cutie show was a resounding exception. This is one we're not gonna forget anytime soon. Both bands put on nearly flawless shows that really raised the bar.

Unless you've been living under a rock (read: not reading music magazines or watching The O.C.) for the past few years, chances are you've heard of Death Cab. The Seattle four piece is revered as canonical among the indie set. Gibbard's voice has become so iconic (both through Death Cab and his massively successful side project, The Postal Service), that hearing it live seemed a bit surreal at first. But this isn't a band or a front man that assumes any sort of superiority over their audience; they were so in touch with the audience and happy to be playing for them that the distance between the stage and the crowd disappeared. A simple white backdrop, occasionally featuring minimal lighting effects, let the band capture the audience's attention on their own. All of the elements of the concert worked together and nothing was overly showy. All of this was masterfully complemented by perfect sound from the 9:30 Club; we don't think we've ever heard it so good there before.

Before Death Cab took the stage, Montreal's Stars warmed up the crowd, who seemed to be there as much to hear these guys as they were for Death Cab. Set Yourself on Fire has been one of this year's biggest treats, and the band's live show lived up to the subtle, sweet and dramatic expectations the album had built. The delicate male and female vocals were perfectly matched by the instrumentation. Though the strings section featured on a few of their songs was back tracked, the live trumpet, played by lead singer Torqull Campbell, was a treat. Their dreamy music was punctuated by dramatic slow-motion dancing by the band members, that seemed almost like ballet. Musically complementary to Death Cab and matching the headliners in demeanor, Stars were delighted to be playing for this audience and to be touring with Death Cab. Seldom has this DCist felt so appreciated by the bands she was there to see.

And then, it was time. The crowd was in a notably friendly mood; there were very few elbows or beer waterfalls. The Sunday night show added to the relative sobriety of the audience, which made for a group more there for a concert than for a party. Or maybe everyone was just giddy from the Redskins afternoon win. Whatever the cause, Death Cab brought out the best in its fans. When they took the stage at 9:45, they opened with the first track from their latest album, "Marching Bands of Manhattan." They were a bit restrained at first, but by the time they played "Title and Registration" a few songs in, the crowd's attention was singularly focused on the band.

The set was Plans-heavy (which is fine by us, as it's a brilliant album), but featured plenty of tracks from across their discography. Aside from "Lack of Color," they played every song we wanted to hear. Each song had been perfected for performance; there was a tuning and guitar switch for each one. It didn't slow the pace of the show at all; much like the band, the crew was practiced and knew what they were doing. Standouts included "Summer Skin," (which features one of this DCist's favorite metaphors in recent history, the end of a summer romance symbolized in the peeling away of a sunburn), "Movie Script Ending," and a one-man acoustic "I Will Follow You Into the Dark" at the start of the encore. (The crowd was conspicuously silent throughout this song, with the exception of a cry from the balcony to "Get crazy!," and its subsequent giggles and shushes.) The song that really embodied Death Cab's abilities last night had to be "Different Names for the Same Thing," which starts off as a slow swayer, and picks up into an all-systems-go showcase of their energetic side, all in one song and proving these guys to be real musicians, not just some band.

Our one complaint last night involved lighting. There were several instances where the entire club was lit up for a few bars. While this effort did achieve its goal of bringing the audience into the show and making the venue feel smaller, its side effect was a reduction in the music's feel, as well. Call us crazy, but somehow things just sound louder in the dark. The blue starry sky lighting effects on some of the more floaty tracks was poignant and perfect, though, as was the lighting for the majority of the show.

And this brings us to showmanship. All four of these guys are complete pros, and each member's contribution is audible and irreplaceable on each track. Jason McGerr's drums are rich and exactly as they should be; the drums do more than keep the band's time, they set the tone. With Nick Harmer on bass, the crowd can't help but be into the show, as he is dancing along with every song as much as they are. Ben Gibbard's signature shoulder dance brings a visual element to his vocals, which were spot on last night. He and guitarist Chris Walla shared duties on guitar and piano, sometimes going one or the other, sometimes doubling up, without faltering. Ahhh, Chris Walla. Let us put it on the record that this DCist offically has a huge crush on the endearingly strange DCFC member and wants to tousle his hair in the worst way. He sang along with the songs, even when he wasn't on vocals. Before exiting the stage, he was the last man standing and told the crowd, "Hopefully we'll see you again soon, like maybe tomorrow! Bye!," waved and ran off. The 'twixt-song banter, lead by Walla and Gibbard, was funny and a little bit awkward, but in that Cohen-esque manner that makes intrinsically nerdy people the best kind to be around. (You didn't think you were going to make it through an entire DCFC review without a Seth Cohen reference, did you?)

In summation, this is a band that's put in the time and knows what they're doing. They even made the audience wait more than 30 seconds for a proper encore, so it felt real rather than forced. There was a shared feeling in the club last night that everyone seemed really happy to be there. Silent head-bobbing was traded in for singing along and smiling to every song. The chock-full club felt buoyant, which made Gibbard's praise of 9:30 as "truly one of the best clubs in the country" carry more weight. A great band in a great venue leaves this DCist with a great impression of Death Cab For Cutie.