Cursive
Thursday, April 2, 2009 | midnight
Cursive has never been a band to rest on its laurels. 2000’s Domestica fell in love with Pavement’s askew lo-fi; 2003’s The Ugly Organ featured severe cello acrobatics; and 2006’s Happy Hollow let its freak-jazz flag fly. Mama, I’m Swollen is yet another step forward for the Omaha act—a nuanced album that’s at once muted and theatrical.
Flute and riotous horns burst forth from “I Couldn’t Love You,” while the twangy “Caveman” is a vaudeville hoedown; in contrast, “Donkeys” is an unsettling, bedtime-story fever dream with a creepy music box backdrop, and the primal “From the Hips” combines indie-rock brooding and corrugated post-punk.
Lyrically, vocalist Tim Kasher seems fixated on reconciling the responsibilities of adulthood with the hedonism of youth—and that’s where Swollen stumbles. What’s meant as profundity can devolve into whining (“Mama, the planet is a placenta/Pull the plug”). But when Swollen’s wordplay matches its music—see: the frantic, repeating cries of “We’re wearing out our heels/On a road to hell” paired with the breakneck punk-skronk instrumentation in “In the Now”—the album excels.
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