Artist: Cursive
Album: The Ugly Organ
Year: 2003
Rating:
Is Omaha, Nebraska the next Minneapolis? If so, Cursive are the Husker Du to Bright Eyes’ Replacements (with Connor Oberst as Paul Westerburg, duh!). And while Oberst’s indulgent, epic approach to folk-rock doesn’t exactly mesh with Westerburg’s lovable, “beautiful loser” aesthetic, Cursive’s abrasive, emotional, angry neo-hardcore can easily find it’s grounding in Zen Arcade-era Husker Du. And you know what, since The Ugly Organ is a concept record, could it be possibly be....oh, I don’t know....Cursive’s Zen Arcade? Hmmmmm......
Like Mr. Oberst, Cursive frontman Tim Kasher wants his audience to “think.” In place of Husker Du’s brilliant, no-bullshit approach to their art, Kasher paints graphic, involved, vague, and brutal portraits of his psyche. Never afraid of taking the role of the first or second person, The Ugly Organ reads like a well-plotted out diary. Could it be literary rock? 
Like Cursive’s other concept record from a few years ago, Cursive’s Domestica, which despite a title which just screamed “pretentious mess” was actually an intense, enjoyable piece of emo-core, The Ugly Organ also deals with the strains of a broken relationship. But while Domestica presented the actual relationship (Tim’s marriage) meeting its untimely demise, The Ugly Organ tells a vivid story of the whole random, elicit sex and guilt stage that follows every messy breakup (uhhhhh.....right?). Needless to say, this album is a delightful, jolly ride.
The album starts, interestingly enough, with two songs dedicated to artistic self-loathing (“Some Red Handed Slight Of Hand” and “Art Is Hard”) with the former presenting a clever, although quite depressing start:

“And now, we proudly present
Songs perverse and songs of lament.
A couple of hymns of confession,
And songs that recognize our sick obsessions.
Sing along- I'm on the ugly organ again.
Sing along- I'm on the ugly organ, so lets begin.
There's no use to keep a secret,
Everything I hide ends up in lyrics...
So read on- accuse me when you're done-
If it sounds like I did you wrong.”

With this, Kasher partakes in and acknowledges the new kiss-off to snotty critics, the “ha, ha, I’m in on all of my artistic limitations” stance. “Art Is Hard” continues Kasher’s self-criticism with the following ambiguous stanza:

“Cause we all know art is hard
Young artists have gotta starve
Try, and fail, and try again
The comforts of repetition
Keep churning out those hits
'Til it's all the same old shit” 

Hmmmm, is Mr. Kasher referencing the corporate-punk boom of recent years, or is this just more sel-disparagement?
My misleading cynical tone aside, Kasher and Cursive are making some of the most interesting and enjoyable emo-punk of the past few years. And while the concept and role-jumping could easily be labeled needlessly pretentious, it’s excellently executed and quite well-written, although it does tend to become overambitious at times.

But it wouldn’t work if it weren’t for the tight musical performances, especially that of fairly new member, cellist Gretta Cohn. While many other bands would probably relegate her to a supporting role, Cohn’s intense strumming is thankfully brought up-front creating a wonderfully original power. She adds another dimension to the abrasive onslaught of Cursive’s rhythm section. Much of the album’s success can be attributed to her performance.

Lyrically, “The Recluse” is the best representation of the album’s underlying theme:

“How'd I end up here to begin with? I don't know.
Why do I start what I can't finish?
Oh please, don't barrage me with questions to all those ugly answers.
My ego's like my stomach- it keeps shitting what I feed it.
But maybe I don't want to finish anything anymore..
Maybe I can wait in bed 'til she comes home. and whispers.
.....................................
I wake alone in a woman's room I hardly know.
I wake alone - and pretend that I am finally home.”

The albums continues with such laments on infidelity (“Driftwood”), embarrassing episodes of animosity brought on by anger and alcohol (“Gentlemen Caller”), and even more tortured artist self-loathing (“Butcher The Song”).

By “Sierra,” the second-to-last track, Kasher claims that he’s “ready to settle down,” signaling the expected grasping of maturity from the album’s protagonist. Thus, the final track “Staying Alive” is a fantastic epic that peaks in beautiful intensity that ends in lovely, moody ambiance.

You might listen to “Butcher The Song” and agree with Kasher’s denunciation of his own album, or you’ll find The Ugly Organ to be just more proof of the Saddle Creek label’s consistent string of quality musical output. I would agree with the latter. All self-indulgence aside, The Ugly Organ may be a downer, but it’s an especially enjoyable downer.
by Paul Haney