The Dartmouth Review The Dartmouth Review The Dartmouth Review 25th Anniversary Gala

Rock Is Dead; Long Live Rock: Stefan Beck Reviews 'Hot Water Music' and 'Cursive'

By Stefan M. Beck | Monday, October 1, 2001

So Radiohead releases a couple albums showcasing not only Thom Yorke's usual woeful whinnying, but also a number of astonishing musical innovations. To the casual listener, these new sounds may evoke Nintendo soundtrack music, circa 1989. And, amidst all that Excitebike purring and Legend of Zelda bleeping, one can almost discern the cries of music critics: "Rock is dead!" or "If it wasn't dead already, then Kid A and Amnesiac are the last nails in the coffin!"

Try telling that to Hot Water Music.

The Gainesville, Florida band is unlikely to believe that metallic clanking will ever be a substitute for a truly passionate, pulse-pounding rock number. For anybody else confused on this point, the band's latest release, A Flight and a Crash (Epitaph), will provide some clarification.

Hot Water Music has been called 'post-hardcore'; certainly, its lyrics often tackle hardcore-ish themes of tradition, trust, and loyalty. It has been dubbed emo, perhaps because of its affiliation with bands like Saves the Day and Strike Anywhere. Yet, in the purest sense, it's a rock band. It swaggers and screams. It's as testosterone-soaked as the Dallas Cowboys; why most fraternities play girly dance music and not Hot Water Music may always remain a mystery.

The songs on A Flight and a Crash do not diverge much from the band's previous material. The album art is by Scott Sinclair, who illustrates all of HWM's releases. So one might reasonably suspect that the band fears change, if not for one simple fact: if what you do best is write and play loud, guttural, and incredibly sincere music, you really have no incentive to do otherwise.

The album opener, 'A Flight and a Crash,' is a reminder to fans and newcomers of the emotional vigor and intensity that have made this an enduring band. Guitarist/vocalists Chuck Ragan and Chris Wollard roar over each other: 'In Boulder, and San Francisco, a halfway house back home. / Back out of his head. / Out searching, for the escape.' Hoarse voices and thundering drums are a testament to the work the band has put into its long (seven years and counting) career. When the song ends 'Heart racing. / Head pounding from the screaming. / Heart racing now,' we know exactly what we're in for.

'Jack of All Trades,' which follows the opener, is an angrier song: 'Give me a reason not to lash out, / because I don't see much reason now.' It's a line that would sound ridiculous coming from most bands, but here, coupled with aggressive guitars and a rumbling, ever-present bassline, it's just right.

'Paper Thin' is more nuanced, opening with quick guitar-picking that repeats throughout the song. Its lyrics are resonant and affecting: 'White, white walls and hospitals, / all of us feel trivial and paper thin, / tentative and waiting.'

The band does cover some new ground on the album. 'Sunday Suit' shows off bass chops, at times completely replacing guitar with bass; 'She Takes It So Well' reveals a slower and more cautious approach than Hot Water Music is used to—a harsh voice over delicate music. Only 'Old Rules,' with its tedious and predictable drumming, and 'One More Time,' which is too simple, disappoint. But on the whole, the album is the work of a band which, even after seven years, continues to grow and amaze.

Cursive, of Omaha, Nebraska, is another band that thumbs its nose at rumors of rock's demise. Cursive's new five-song EP Burst and Bloom (Saddle Creek), the follow-up to its critically acclaimed Domestica, is the brilliant work of an evolving but nevertheless shamelessly hard-rocking band.

The EP's opening track, 'Sink to the Beat,' takes an exacting look at the band's own sound, history, and motivation. Singer/songwriter Tim Kasher's voice starts out robotic-sounding as he intones, 'I'll try to make this perfectly clear / I'm so transparent I disappear.'

Then his inimitable voice traverses the whole range of dynamics: he sings softly, screams, moans, hits the high notes, and sometimes sounds almost pretty. He continues: 'Clint steps in to establish the beat / 4/4 hip hop and you don't stop' and 'they've got a good fan base, they've got integrity, they've got a DC sound / Shudder To Think, Fugazi.'

While 'Sink to the Beat' is funny and self-critical (what song but a Cursive song would refer to itself as 'a cheap strategy, a marketing scheme / building awareness for the next LP'?), the other songs on the EP have an epic quality. There is the hopeless, exhausted 'The Great Decay,' with its lines 'all these ghost towns share a name / Anywhere, USA / all these strangers look the same.' 'Tall Tales, Telltales,' which weaves the sweeping story of a ship in a storm, ends with 'it's a good life if you don't weaken / hold on, hold on.'

'Mothership, Mothership, Do You Read Me?' is the most remarkable song on Burst and Bloom. Its themes of birth, separation, and longing, are among the most powerful that Tim Kasher has tackled. When he sings 'calling out to homebase one last time / the signal faded the ship is gone / still starving for that reason / you were created,' and the guitars and drums swell and explode, it's hard to imagine the possibilities of rock and roll ever being exhausted.

Lyrically, Burst and Bloom is pure poetry. Musically it's like a hand grenade going off. The boys in Cursive are brilliant musicians, and every one of the five songs on the EP milks this brilliance for all it's worth. There are a few innovations — string instruments, drum machines, piano, and strange vocal effects — but these are used with care and caution.

They do not eclipse the real aim of the music, which is to move people.

So, while the rest of the music world gravitates toward the dubious 'music' of pinball machines, industrial ventilators, and scribblin' DJs, we can safely assume that passionate bands like these will continue writing sincere, exciting songs, 4/4 if necessary, that make us all wish we could play guitar like that.