Oh great, a failed relationship
concept album. Cursive frontman Tim Kasher loses the
distortion pedal and guides his "pop" band,
The Good Life, through a series of his break-ups.
It's difficult to articulate what's
wrong with this album. A set of twelve beautifully conceived
and written paeans to lost love, with outstanding performances
from all quarters, it should be tugging at those heartstrings
within minutes. Kasher and co. have opted for a traditional,
smoky cabaret style for the most part, replete with sultry
piano, distant sax noodles, and the occasional burst of climactic
horns. Kasher's lyrics are detailed and honest, spinning
yarn after yarn of deceit and distrust.
The problem we have is one of authenticity. Musically, the
album feels like an exercise in pastiche. It is so tempered
and reverent that there's no room for any dramatic
punch. It's difficult to resist comparing
the record to Bright Eyes' Lifted. That record,
helmed by Kasher's labelmate and friend Conor Oberst,
covers similar musical ground, but injects so much Southern
Gothic despair into the mix that it is regularly devastating.
Sadly,
the Good Life's attempts in comparison are a
pale imitation.
The other problem with authenticity is, conversely, that
Kasher's
lyrics are just too damn honest. Rather than being illuminating
and captivating, the bitterness, regret and self-disgust
that permeate this record makes for incredibly uncomfortable
listening. It would help if the music was at least as moody
as the content, but the upbeat fluff of tracks like "Lovers
Need Lawyers" seems wildly inappropriate.
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