It would be safe to say that, post millennium, Tim kasher went through a tough time. The bitter divorce of his wife Kim after he had split up saddle creek Art Rockers Cursive and relocated to Portland hit him hard. One only has to look towards the airing of dirty laundry that was 2000’s “Domestica” to see that the emotional scars and bitterness were scrawled into Kashers songwriting like permanent marker.
Tim Kashers side project The Good Life dealt with the uncomfortable disintegration of Kashers marriage even further with earlier albums such as “Blackout” and “Novena on a Nocturn”. These initial two records more introspective and contemplative, whole albums of self-analysis but no less resentful or embittered, Kasher could only use divorce for subject matter for so long before it defined him as a songwriter and became an unfortunate muse. Tim Kasher has always had reputation (sometimes played up to by kasher himself) of the hopeless drunk romantic, content to drown heartbreak in a sea of cheap alcohol and even cheaper bars. Even hardened fans could find this beginning to be almost tiresome, a songwriter stubbornly refusing to move forward as so many other bands are guilty of, happy to just release album after album of the same laborious songs.
“The first time I met you I was throwing up in the ladies room stall” is the first line on “Album of the Year”. The album documents the last year of a relationship that is dwindling at a steady pace, the once sturdy foundations of the mutual need of a soul mate weakening and the feeling of why two people initially fall in love fading. The title track tackles the overzealousness of the first few months where calls from payphones on work breaks are made just to hear a partner’s voice, the reciprocal feeling of that first burst of love that consumes and washes over you. The protagonist soon becomes a pillow over the face of the relationship spending the whole day at the bar where his partner has found work stifling them and pushing the awkwardness of living in someone’s pockets to the point of the unbearable. “Space is not just a place for stars – I gave you an inch, you want a house with a yard” he is told in no uncertain terms. It serves as a glimpse of the album as a whole, Kasher narrating with just an acoustic guitar for company before bandmates (made up of the usual family of saddle creek musicians) bring the song to its climax of drums, mandolins and Wurlitzers. Producer Mike Mogis (who was at the helm for so many of saddle creek’s most well-known releases) turns album of the year into a more organic sound with lyrical content moving further away from the metaphors of earlier Good Life releases. As you listen to the title track you see the relationship as one sided. Boy meets girl, girl grows tired of boy, girl ultimately leaves boy therefor destroying boy’s life. If you left it at that one track it would seem like standard Tim Kasher fare and no one would blame the listener for turning off, content to judge on one song and dismissing it altogether. What sets “Album of the Year” apart from earlier releases is that it’s more open to interpretation also in this relationship you learn that nothing is what it seems.
With each track representing each month in the year of the doomed relationship “Album of the Year” is broken into three parts – the earlier salad days of the year to the rumours of infidelity and constant protestations of innocence to the aftermath and each characters self-healing. “Notes in his pockets” is the constant accusations of cheating from the female lead reading an almost shopping list of instances while he is forced to explain himself. The listener knows that accusations of distrust will stain a relationship even after the most fervent bouts of “working through it”. The middle part of “Album of the Year” is the excruciating, sometimes voyeuristic embarrassment of hearing and seeing the emotional collapse and breakdown like you’re in the room with them, silently willing them to just let it go. The feeling of being are the only person that see’s where this is going makes for, at times, uncomfortable listening. “You’re Not You” and “Lovers need Lawyers” are Kasher’s characters noticing the change in each other and the slow drift away from what (they thought?) they once were and the eventual growth of distrust into hate, sick of constant defence from regular accusation leads to painful bitterness and the split, the breakup that these two people need and will never understand why. The gentle folk strum of “You’re not you” is the sound of pleading for talking not just the bluster of shouting that always form redundant arguments whilst the keyboards and electric guitars that form the angrier, defiant “Lovers” musically expressing the emotional volatility of a couple at odds and at war.
“Album of the Year’s highlight comes in the form of the stunning 9 minute long “inmates”. A Heart-breaking duet between Tim Kasher and frequent Bright eyes Collaborator Jiha Lee. Sung from the females point of view summing up her need for love even from someone who she accuses of having a masochistic need to fuck up any relationship he is in (“I met your ex-girlfriend, she said honey don’t bother”). Lee’s verses pondering why they are both still need to be there “What are we still doing here, so desperate for company? There’s a greyhound on Jackson Street, there’s an airport in Council Bluffs…hell, there’s a car in the driveway – fifty ways to get lost”. Is “inmates” the sound of the heroine of “Album” figuring out the male after all, blaming everything from childhood female role models to sheer narcissism and misogyny for their split or is it simply blame shifting where she takes no responsibility of the break up?. The beauty of “Inmates” is that its open to interpretation and as the song builds to its climax and Kasher and Lee bring closure with the repeated line of “I won’t be your prisoner, oh no” the feeling is equal parts sadness that its over but ultimately happiness that they have finally figured out that it not meant to be and have put their love out of its misery.
The last three tracks see Tim Kashers characters after the breakup. “Needy” is the boy licking his wounds, too hurt to even think of moving on. “I fucked up so many times, I’m better off alone” laments kasher whilst “new friend” addresses the battle of who has moved on first, the male lead tormenting himself and filling his head with fictional visions of what her new relationship is like.
“Album of the year ends with the self-explanatory “Two Years This Month” where the listener learns that post breakup they haven’t spoken a single word to each other. After listening to what could be deemed a concept album all the way through you probably agree that this is a good thing.
Considering the heaviness of the subject matter “Album of the Year” never becomes a chore to listen to, the intensity of the lyrical subject matter never draining the listener’s emotions. Tim kasher slips up a few times, falling in to his comfort zone of drunken romantic. You are sometimes left wondering if alcohol is just a lazy get out or excuse from Kasher. Considering his past work how easy is it to drop a line about love and booze lazily into a song rather than give a new slant on his failings as a lover?. The line “I was reading Fante at the time, I had Bukowski on my mind” is cringeworthy on every listen even if it is a response to “she was convinced I was under the influence of all those drunken romantics” (is that an fictional accusation from our heroine to the narrator or a response from Tim Kasher himself to critical accusations of his songwriting?).
Musical and lyrical comfort zone gripes aside “Album of the Year” is a stunning piece of work even eight years after release and will strike a chord with anyone who has gone through what these characters go through or indeed Tim kasher went through in his personal life. It’s brutally honest lyrically and in parts harrowing to even listen to yet contains enough fragility and melodic beauty to keep songs stuck in your head and embedded in your heart years later.
In 2004 this definitely lived up to its title and always will regardless what year you let this album into your life.
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