If John Updike’s Rabbit wrote music about sex and marriage, would you want to hear it? Neither would I. Nonetheless, I watched Tim Kasher perform his solo debut The Game of Monogamy--the equivalent to this hypothetical disaster--at The Wilbur Theatre.
As frontman for the bands Cursive and the Good Life, Kasher has built a career on intelligent and thematic songwriting, and his first solo venture is no exception. Each song on the album ponders an element of love, marriage, or sex and, for the most part, does so with bitterness and regret.
For me, watching Kasher’s show evoked the same emotions as reading one of Updike’s Rabbit novels: disgust, sadness, mild empathy, and more disgust. Though I was reacting mostly to his lyrics, Kasher’s stage presence only augmented my loathing. The man’s a damn good musician. And with his boyish haircut and a permanent smirk on his face, he’s got swagger. Kasher performed with a three-piece band, whose occasional horn and violin recreated the lush orchestration of the album. Together they produced a tight sound with the bravado and skill of veteran musicians. But, ugh, those lyrics (and that smirk!)!
A rare empathetic moment of the set came during the back-to-back performances of “The Prodigal Husband” and “Strays.” When Kasher sang, “Have I damaged you so bad that I can never come back?” we saw the first hint of repentance from Kasher’s bitter, cheating protagonist. “Strays” told a different story of two people accepting their imperfections and acknowledging that, “We’re a family of strays, but together we've been found.”
But Kasher killed any earned sympathy by following with his most blunt, obnoxious, albeit self-aware, piece, “There Must Be Something I’ve Lost.” In case we doubted his insufferable, sex-crazed ways, he told us right from the start, “I wanna have sex with all my old girlfriends again.” As I rolled my eyes, wanting to shout out, “You know, the world don't revolve around your prick!” that’s the exact lyric he offered a few bars later.
Considering Kasher’s love of honest, soul-searching songwriting, I assume he would be pleased to know that his songs made me want to punch him. Upon hearing them, the thoughtful listener can’t help but think about his own views of marriage and love. Few songwriters can cause this kind of reflection. And who knows? Maybe I’m the wrong person to write this review. Maybe there’s some bro out there who got married for the wrong reasons, finds The Game of Monogamy truly cathartic, and would write a completely different review. But for me, this album and Kasher’s live show is simply a thoughtful character study of a loathsome protagonist. (Updike’s Rabbit novels, likewise.) During the show, I stood in front of a very inebriated young woman, whom I can safely call Kasher’s biggest Boston fan. Singing every lyric with great sincerity, she clearly experienced some form of catharsis that night. And when she loudly sang the wrong words during the silent pauses of “I Am a Grown Man,” Kasher replied, “You must be the ‘Rest Your Head’ lady,” referring to the Good Life song she yelled out between every song. The fact that Kasher didn’t publicly trash her gave me hope that the writer and the character were not one and the same.
Kasher opened for friends and Seattle touring heavyweights Minus the Bear. From the opening guitar blasts of “Secret Country,” the testosterone-heavy crowd was singing along with heads nodding and fists pounding. Minus the Bear love classic rock ‘n’ roll posturing. Bass player Cory Murchy rarely stood in place, strutting around the stage with his long hair flying over his eyes. Guitarist Dave Knudson was likewise a major headbanger, not even stopping his thrusts when he was hunched over a pedal board.
About two-thirds through the set, Minus the Bear departed from their guitar-heavy material and launched into a handful of more electro-pop tracks from Omni. For “Animal Backwards” and “My Time,” singer Jake Snider put down his guitar, and the drum machines and recorded tracks took over. Though the crowd wasn’t exactly dancing, cocksure lyrics like “I got your nights” and “It’s what you need” maintained a forceful energy for the rest of the evening.
