by Ian Anderson
Tim Kasher is growing up. Not in the “moving on and turning away from the past” sense of the word, but rather in scrupulously studying the mistakes he’s made and trying to figure out what the hell went wrong. This self-examination begins with the retelling of his love life during the past four years.
Download an mp3 of The Good Life’s song A New Friend.
“In the past four years, I’ve had four one-year long relationships,” explains
Kasher via telephone while stuck in a traffic jam. “I think that’s common at
this age (Kasher’s 30), just trying to stop fucking around.”
Album of the Year’s rehashing of past-love’s lost depicts both the optimism
and, often, disappointment found in late 20s relationships. “I guess I was always
trying to save relationships, trying to work it out,” offers Kasher. “It seems
doomed from the start, but you try to hold it together and make it work.” Although
lovelorn stories don’t exactly constitute the most original inspiration for
an album, Kasher’s writing on Album of the Year provides a deeper analysis
of his frustration with falling in love too much, which keeps the story line
moving. “The stories are about as age-old as can be, but I don’t mind that though
because everyone has had to deal with these problems,” admits Kasher. “It’s
simple, but it works.”
And indeed it does work—largely because, aside from the lyrical content, Album
of the Year is much brighter and poppier than anything Kasher’s done before.
Filled with acoustic guitars and warm telecasters, Album’s sound is clean
and inviting, far folkier than the Good Life’s previous new-wave tinged records
that garnered constant comparisons to the Cure. Defined by classy sophistication,
with string accompaniments, horn fills, quiet piano parts and pedal steel guitar
coloring around the edges of Kasher’s wounded howl, the record feels more like
Elvis Costello’s King of America than something from the Saddle-Creek
record label stable. The influence of producer Mike Mogis is felt all over the
record as he aids Kasher in dressing up his tunes with some of the same baroque
folk stylings that worked to such great effect on Bright Eyes’ 2002 breakthrough
album, Lifted ...
This influence is also noticeable in the change of percussion. The Good Life’s
sophomore record, the eclectic Blackout, was set primarily to manufactured
beats with only occasional organic drum parts, but now, the percussion section
is occupied by tambourines, shakers, and at times even bongos. “I still like
working with beats in live shows, but in all the songs on Album, I didn’t
see a place for them,” claims Kasher. “I didn’t want to put them in, just to
put them in. Everything was so laid back, it seemed more natural with acoustic
drums.”
The change in percussion partly signifies the overall change in approach that
separated the busy and anxious sound of Blackout from Album’s
laid-back, back-beat feel. This focused and calm energy also serves as a catalyst
for the pop-rock overtones that transform each song into a catchy tune with
Morrissey-esque crooning, but often dreadfully depressing lyrics, (“We started
laughing until it didn’t hurt”).
Album of the Year is a record fixated on figuring out the difference
between knowing what you want and knowing what you need. In the past, Kasher’s
songs have all been linked by theme and purpose. With Good Life album No. 3,
rather than stringing together a bunch of songs bound together by time and place
Kasher tells a story that moves and breathes, one open to various interpretations
but with one underlying message, “We don’t know what we want, but we know we’re
needy.”
The central emotions driving Kasher’s treacherous love stories are desperation
and frustration—a private dread that Kasher airs publicly throughout Album’s
dozen woe-filled tracks. The whole affair is strikingly different from the avant-metal
of his other higher-profile group Cursive. “I’ve always wanted to write in as
many different styles as I could,” explains Kasher of why he prefers fronting
two strikingly different bands. “The downfall of many writers is that they only
have one style. If people are done with that style, they’re done with that writer.
I wanted to branch out into two bands with two different approaches to music.”
Just
because Cursive has been far more successful commercially than the Good Life
doesn’t mean Kasher views Cursive as his main band: “I want to be seen as a
writer independently. Whatever I’m writing for is whatever I’m writing for.”
Rather than writing songs and choosing their destination band after the fact,
Kasher writes entire records in one sitting, thus maintaining a strong sense
of continuity within the final product. The only difference between playing
with Cursive and the Good Life are the people who are involved. “It’s just a
different arrangement of people and as a result the shows are more laid back,”
explains Kasher. “We have a tendency to fuck around more. With Cursive, we’ve
been playing for so long that it’s more business, more professional.”
“I have this repetitious cycle of starting up doomed relationships,” explains
Kasher as our interview winds down. “I wrote this at the point in my life when
I was trying to piece them together.” Piecing these relationships together through
Album’s story takes Kasher’s one-dimensional characters and moves them
into a broader light. In doing so, Kasher provides himself the opportunity to
examine past love affairs without giving away exactly how he feels about them,
forcing examination of the actions of the actors and actresses in his story,
rather than his own. Rarely has a guy sorting through the wasteland of his love-life
created art so captivating—it’s almost hard not to wish the man further heartache.||
The
Good Life plays on Sun., Oct. 24, at the Triple Rock Social Club with Neva Dinova
the ’89 Cubs and Look Down. 5 p.m. All Ages. $8 adv/ $10 door. 629 Cedar Ave.
S., Mpls. 612-333-7399.
Find out more about The Good Life on their record label’s
official website.
Download an mp3 of The Good Life’s song A New Friend.
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