by Tim McMahan, Lazy-i.com

I began to lose touch with Tim Kasher and Cursive sometime after I Am Gemini came out in 2012 – a record I own on vinyl and have listened to only a few times and almost never all the way through – just a very difficult listen. Then came Vitriola in 2018 that included maybe my favorite Kasher-penned song of the past decade or so — the wholly ignored “Remorse,” that was never released as a single despite its jaw-dropping beauty. Then came Get Fixed in 2019, which I can’t remember having listened to (though I know I did). 

Within that same timeframe, The Good Life (another Kasher-penned project) released Everybody’s Coming Down (in 2015) and Kasher released three solo outings – Adult Film (2013) (with the infectious single “A Raincloud is a Raincloud”; No Resolution (2017), and most recently, Middling Age (2022), with the delectable “I Don’t Think About You.” 

Kasher also created a Patreon website, which I don’t subscribe to. He’s prolific, to say the least. But despite this, I’m not aware of any song from any of the above albums receiving airplay on Sirius XMU or any other national channel. Kasher has reached a point in his career where he can keep releasing albums year after year and his core fans will continue to buy them (or stream them) and show up when he rolls through town. 

Conversely – or whatever – Conor Oberst and Bright Eyes, who shared the national limelight with Kasher/Cursive and The Faint in the 2000s, continues to be heard on Sirius XMU with or without Phoebe Bridgers singing on the track. Is it a matter of fame or quality that drives XMU programmers to choose one over the other? I cannot say. 

So, to those Sirius XMU programmers – or maybe just Jenny Eliscu: Give Cursive’s latest album, Devourer, a chance, if only for the obvious pop songs, which I’ll get to in a minute. 

Devourer, which comes out Sept. 13 on the band’s new label, Run for Cover Records, is a throwback of sorts to the kind of records the band made 20 or so years ago, circa Happy Hollow, The Ugly Organ and, yes, Domestica. The band, which has now ballooned to seven members, while every bit as pounding and “angular” as you remember, has never sounded more properly structured, which is a stupid way of saying the songs are more focused, more compact, more self-contained vs. the too-often meandering complications of the past couple decades. 

That said, Devourer isn’t a “pop” album by any means. Cursive/Kasher albums are typically concept in nature, and this one is no exception. The core idea: Accept living with bitterness, dissolution and regret as you wallow in middle age, angry that all those wrong decisions you made along the way will now doom you to disappointment as your remaining years slip away. 

Kasher is the king of self-revelatory navel-gazing, and whether he denies it or not, you have to believe the bitterness in these songs were born of personal experience. That, or he’s the king of make believe. 

The album jumps out of the gate with a trio of hard-rocking bummers. “Botch Job” and “Up and Away” underscore a life wasted, whereas “The Avalanche of Our Demise” bemoans mankind’s perceived apathy toward impending catastrophe – whether from climate change or (from Kasher’s West Coast vantage point) an inevitable earthquake that drops California into the sea. “At the beginning of the end / Will you run and hide / Or sleep in?” It’s a message that may resonate more clearly with a Z Generation stuck with the task of fixing the rest of the alphabet’s mistakes… or suffering for them.

The follow-up track, “Imposturing,” acknowledges that Kasher (and you) might be getting tired of the complaints, but hey, it’s a living: “No one wants to listen to sins / Regurgitated on colored wax again / You played your best cards / When you were young and insolent.” I’m not so sure.

Sonically, those four are the hardest rocking of the batch thanks to Matt Maginn’s bass work, which drives this record. Kasher and Ted Stevens’ guitars are gritty and angular as you’ve come to expect, but for my money, it’s Patrick Newbery’s synths and Megan Siebe’s cello that put this album in Ugly Organ territory, adding sharp shards of color to Cursive’s dark-toned doom-swing. 

Which brings us to those pop numbers I mentioned earlier.  

“Dead End Days” is a hand-clapper, with Ted sharing vocals with Tim and Newbery providing a soaring synth glide-path. “Dark Star” swings with a funky synth line, a Clint Schnase-powered dance beat and Siebe’s sinewy cello, while Kasher imagines he’s the snake in the garden. That cello surprises throughout the album’s second half. On “What Do We Do Now” Newbery’s synth line combines with cello and his own trumpet to allow you to imagine Jon Brion playing within Cursive’s usual thunderous syncopation.

The only downside is Kasher’s dark-cloud downer message, which can get overwhelming especially when matched with an overdose of angst and frustration that bleeds into overkill on tracks like “What the Fuck” and “The Age of Impotence.” OK, you’re disappointed, we get it.  Even when he’s trying to resolve it, like on album closer “The Loss,” he overshadows a line like “The nightmare is over” with the ender “Death is all it costs / What a brutal, devastating price.”  Spoken like a fellow born-again atheist.

See the album performed live when Cursive plays at The Waiting Room Oct. 18 and 19.

* * *

Read Tim McMahan’s blog daily at Lazy-i.com — an online music magazine that includes feature interviews, reviews and news. The focus is on the national indie music scene with a special emphasis on the best original bands in the Omaha area. Copyright © 2024 Tim McMahan. All rights reserved.