Tim Kasher at the Mohawk – Reviewed

Photo by Jess Ewald

I walked into the Mohawk to see Tim Kasher, expecting that I would have a solid, cathartic cry about how growing up is more complicated than I was prepared for. Instead, I found myself smiling and laughing through most of his set, because — spoiler alert! — Tim Kasher is a funny, engaging and personably nerdy frontman. This brooding dude put up on a pedestal by so many emo kids has a wicked sense of humor, taking his shows from the potential “woe-is-me” fest that they could be, and making them, instead, enjoyably self-deprecating. Before seeing him live, I admired Tim for his brutal honesty and clever, cutthroat way with words. After, I had totally fallen for his quick wit and grain-of-salt attitude. Don’t get me wrong — Kasher feels and believes in what he’s singing. But he presents it all in this way that seems to shrug, “Now do with that what you will.” In Austin’s case, we devoured it.

Tim Kasher tonight! at the Mohawk

Photo by Jess Ewald

“When I was young I believed in love/But hey, I also believed in God…./I believe in a suburban heaven.” As this line from “There Must Be Something I’ve Lost” will tell you, you’re not going to be in for sweetness and light at Tim Kasher’s show tonight. No, if you’re standing next to me at the Mohawk this evening, you’ll be in for a melancholy take on growing up and getting old. But sometimes, wallowing a little in the downside of freedom and responsibility can feel pretty good — especially when you’re wallowing with a room full of people. And there’s no better bandleader for the lost and mournful than Saddle Creek’s Kasher.

Tim is probably best known as the frontman for Cursive, one of Omaha, Nebraska’s big success stories. He also helmed The Good Life, Cursive’s more melodic red-headed stepchild. Through all of these projects, Kasher has written brutally honest songs deconstructing some of modern America’s most sacred institutions — especially marriage. His recent solo album, The Game of Monogamy, is all about this expected union and the pressures so many of us feel. “I don’t want a kid and I can’t keep being one,” Kasher wails on “A Grown Man.” He continues on in the album reminiscing about more hopeful times, ranting with jealousy of younger men and wondering if he’s obsolete. Much like LCD Soundsystem’s James Murphy, Kasher is clearly struggling with adulthood, but unlike Murphy, who seems to shrug his shoulders and power through, Kasher seems to be thrashing around in his music, both restrained and bursting at the seems, fighting with all of his power to maintain his Peter Pan place in the world.

More than flailing adolescent tantrums, though, Kasher’s music takes this energy and uses it to question and criticize the norms we’ve come to take for granted. Should married life be expected of everyone? Are we all supposed to be parents? Must there always come a time where we stop struggling and just settle? Is there anything wrong with that, anyway? This is the kind of brooding music that I love — the stuff that makes me think. And Kasher makes it even better, too, by writing varied, interesting, catchy and surprising songs to wrap his questions in.

So perhaps we’ll all participate in a little wallowing tomorrow. But it won’t be thoughtless. On the contrary, we’ll all be scratching our heads and wondering where we’re headed — and where we want to be headed. And that’s not a bad direction to take.

Tim Kasher and his band play at the Mohawk tonight, with Milk Thistle and Aficionados opening. Doors at 9PM, music at 10PM.

Free Week 2011 Report – Friday and Saturday

My Free Week Friday was spent at Cheer Up Charlie’s, a cute tucked-away eatery with a backyard-turned-venue that is very homey. There was a fire pit raging (and I do mean raging — smoke shot up like we were trying to send an S.O.S.) I found a counter in the back to lean on and cleared my head (for some reason, there were a pair of horses hanging out at Shangri-la, and for some other reason, I hopped up on one before the show. I really don’t know.)

Free Week Review – Wednesday night at the Mohawk

Wednesday night at the Mohawk was like riding an emotional roller coaster, with all participants shoved in one tiny box car, spontaneously howling with delight, holding tight to one another for dear life and sweating all over the place while incredible local bands navigated us on our way.

The evening opened up with Dark Water Hymnal, a five-piece that plays orchestral pop music for woodland elves at a dance party. There were definite nods to Frightened Rabbit, and the group peaked at their second-to-last song, “ Wherever We Are.” It was the best blend of their Tolkien folk-meets-modern dance rock, and the lyrics were immediate and affecting. One concert attendee, J.D., approached me with his input: “What a well put-together band. They’re raw and more alive in some songs — just really nice. I’d want to introduce these guys to my friends. I’d take them home to my parents.” They’re sharp on record, and with a little more time, I think their live show has the potential to hit just as hard.

Next up, Little Lo took the stage. The band isn’t even 100% settled on all of their song titles, so I’ll do the best I can here. The tiny inside room at the Mohawk was packed the whole night, and there were a lot of Chatty Cathys up in there (my kind way of saying Austin peoples need to STFU if they’re gonna be hanging out in the room where the music is going on, kthx). Still, when the group broke out with tentatively-titled “SXSW Song,” Sam Houdek’s explosive drum kick-off silenced the room, if only for a few minutes. The group truly sounded like they were at their peak; they filled the room with their songs, and played with so much love and excitement that our little roller coaster boxcar felt like it was imminently on that swooshing downward rush, stuck in the very best moments of the ride. Lead singers Ryan James McGill and Bailey Glover each have completely unique voices; McGill’s is simultaneously achingly honest and quietly smooth, whereas Glover’s soars, with the kind of strong vibrato that is perfectly at home on a stage. It feels like it should be unlikely for these voices to wrap around one another so perfectly, but they are wonderful compliments, and the rest of the group’s backing harmonies are the perfect bed in which they can cozy up. McGill is a masterful wordsmith; phrasing like “Down here I don’t have to lie, I just lay” and “I do look good in green for you” stay with you long after the band has packed up their equipment. They played “Wounded Knee” for our aforementioned pal J.D., who discovered the group at the Oh Snap! Festival. Bassist Josh Mead is delightful to watch during this tune, as he dances around in his own world, and saxophonist/mandolin player Ian Rogers lights up every time he catches his bandmate jamming out. Multi-instrumentalists Stephanie Groudle and George Pappas crowded around a mic with their band members for Little Lo’s interpretation of a William Blake poem, but you could see on Groudle and Houdek’s faces that the crowd was making it impossibly difficult for them to hear their harmonies during the quiet tune. It was the only moment of frustration for the group, and they trudged along, living out the title sentiment during “For Fun.” They closed the night out with “Broken Skin,” which starts slow and bubbles up to an encompassing boil at the end. The main stage lights shut off at the song’s climax, leaving only light from strings of Christmas lights in the background and creating great shadows as the band members tore the roof off. It was a brilliant set, and possibly the best Little Lo performance I’ve seen yet. Bravo.

If Little Lo was the number one highlight of my night at the Mohawk, Danny Malone was a very close second. Malone had more tattoos and more hair than the last time I saw him, but seemed otherwise to be the same incredibly talented oddball troubadour Austin knows, loves and claims. He opened with the devastating “Close Enough,” and since he was performing acoustically, he didn’t have drums to silence the room and opted for a powerful harmonica part instead. A bulk of the audience seemed to be there to support Malone, as calls of “Danny!” echoed around the place. He picked up the pace on his second song, “My Affection.” On the verse, “Maybe you should think of leaving town,” Malone growled the lyrics, emphasizing how much emotion he plays with. He’s the kind of artist who seems to be reliving whatever experiences his songs are about every time he plays them, which has to be a painful thing if it is indeed true — many of Malone’s songs are about broken hearts and dissatisfaction. He addressed the audience after this, quipping, “We’re celebrating poverty! Woo!” The Free Week joke did not go over very well, so Malone mumbled, “…go Wildbats!” and, after a beat, followed up with, “Or ice cats, or whatever,” and then with a chuckle, continued his set with the sweet tune, “Sailing.” Up next was a new track, which Malone described as his “new hit song.” Possibly titled “Sugar Water,” the opening line was, “Face down in the sink/I found you there puking in your sleep.” Malone is a master of cynicism, witty sarcasm and musical and lyrical dichotomies; he coupled the biting verses with a “Bop-shoo-op” breakdown, which was the perfect counter. On a personal note, the next song, “Wait On Me,” definitely got to me, causing some pools to gather in my eyes. It’s a gentle plea with melancholy self-awareness, and Malone hit all the notes just right. To shake things up, he put his signature dance routine into the next setlist slot, and tonight he released balloons into the audience as his own set of lamps flickered in time with his Michael Jackson-esque moves. People seemed fairly unfazed by the display, further indicating a majority were likely fans there to support Malone. Indeed, a sing-along emerged on “Secrets You Know,” and some head banging accompanied Malone’s cries of “Like I was born with it/I’m so bored with it.” Though there were calls for his hit “Baby Bleu” to close out the set, Malone opted to go with a new tune, saying, “Let’s just end this calmly.” Judging by the wild applause that followed the song, I doubt anyone was disappointed.

Marmalakes ended the night at the Mohawk with pretty, catchy pop songs. Drummer Josh Halpern’s parents attended the event, which (let’s be honest) was basically the most awesome and adorable thing ever. Mr. Halpern asked the group of folks I was standing near if his wife could scoot in to get a good look at her son, but Mrs. Halpern insisted we stay near the stage. “I’ve seen them a million times — plus, look how cute he is! And he’s nice, too!” Your mom: the best wingman you could ask for. The band shot through their set, performing old favorites and new tunes to a still-packed and loving room. The bit hit, “Vittoria,” was once again a joyous sing-along, and the room half-accurately clapped along during the second verse. The crowd begged for an encore, but the band waved goodbye and people scattered into the street. It was a wonderful cap to a fabulous Free Week lineup.

Ideal Soul Mart Video Premiere Show

Ideal Soul Mart are playing at the Mohawk on Thursday, March 4th, partly in celebration of their new music video for “Wrk” (which will reportedly premiere at the event.) Silent Land Time Machine and My Milky Way Arms are also on the bill. Show starts at 10 p.m. and is $6/$8 for under 21.