Cursive perplexes, Cymbals enthrall at Bowery

by Jim Testa

Cursive, Cymbals Eat Guitars - Bowery Ballroom, NYC - April 3, 2012

What’s the post in post-punk mean? In the case of Cursive – who headlined two sold-out shows at Bowery Ballroom this week – it’s a good question. Fans – and there are plenty of them, since this entire tour has been selling out night after night – embrace frontman’s Tim Kasher’s passion and eloquence, the band’s roiling energy, and a down-to-earth professionalism that’s kept the Omaha-based band on the road for 15 years.
But if you’re not a fan (and I’m not,) Cursive definitely seems an acquired taste. The band eschews punk’s catchy melodies; most Cursive songs, in fact, seem written to veer away from any hint of a hummable hook into minor key dissonance at every turn. And it’s certainly not a matter of stage presence; Kasher, with his hipster beard and Bieber bowlcut, at least has a bit of rock star panache, but the other two guys who front the band look like they’re there to do your taxes. The music starts, stops, sways, goes off pitch, and then comes back again; trumpet blats and synth squiggles compete with big loud guitars but it’s hard to say Cursive’s sound ever coalesces into an organic whole. And it’s definitely post-hardcore or post-punk (or post-something) because it’s the kind of music that inspires you to listen thoughtfully with your hands in your pockets. Years ago, kids moshed at Cursive shows. Now they look like they’re cramming for their SAT’s while listening to this stuff.

It’s been six months since the fall 2011 release of Cymbals Eat Guitars’ sophomore album Lenses Alien, and also that long since I’ve been able to see the band live. They’re still very much in album release cycle, playing the first half of Lenses Alien sequentially to open their set. But half of year of touring these songs has yielded a few subtle tweaks; the band seems even more expansive than ever, its transcendental soundscapes unfurling with an easy confidence. “More Sonic Youth-y,” is what I scribbled in my notebook. Yes, it’s all effects pedals and reverb and distortion, Brian Hamilton’s keyboards and Matthew Whipple’s melodic basslines waxing and waning subtly beneath Joseph D’Agostino’s monster guitar hooks. There’s way less screaming and much more singing now than when this band first exploded onto the New York scene, but mostly what you remember is the cavernous din they create when everyone cranks it up and lets go, creating a malestrom of distortion . Yes, they’re saying, it’s supposed to sound like this. Unlike Cursive, though, CEG does embrace melody on occasion, and when it does – on the Pavement-esque “…And The Hazy Sea,” which the band now expands and stretches out into a psychedelic rhapsody, and on the burbling “Another Tunguska,” the band allows itself to relax and embrace its rarely-seen pop side. D’Agostino – who was battling a cold but found his full voice once he warmed up – introduced one new song, and it seemed, on first listen, a bit more straightforward than the dense, complex compositions on Lenses Alien. Not that these guys will be turning into Oberhofer anytime soon, but it might be fun if the next album turned out a bit less brainy and a bit more fun.