#12: Cursive's Tim Kasher: Fine with this innocuous name!
"Any of us band namers would love to grab for that brass ring."
I’ve interviewed a couple of people for Band Name Bureau during its short existence, but so far haven’t gone to the source: actual, current band members. And if you want to talk to a smart person about band names, you could hardly do better than Tim Kasher. Since coming of age in Omaha, Nebraska, in the early ’90s, Kasher has been a force in the indie music scene—most notably with Cursive, which celebrates its 25th anniversary this year, and the Good Life, which started as a side project but grew into something more, and as a solo artist. Not only is Cursive one of the great indie bands of the past 25 years, helping bring attention to Omaha’s fertile scene, but it also remains vital. The band released the typically excellent Get Fixed last year, though like everyone else, they’re sitting at home these days. For Kasher, that’s Los Angeles, where he’s lived for several years as a musician and screenwriter. (Check out No Resolution, the 2017 feature film he wrote and directed.) He and I chatted over email, because COVID and smoke.
Band Name Bureau: I’ve never thought about Cursive’s name, which is maybe a compliment? It’s simple and has an elegant connotation. Thanks to an interview linked in Wikipedia, I was surprised to learn only today that it’s an allusion. In typically heady fashion, you said, “At the time there was this book that I was reading by V. S. Naipaul. I was intrigued that the British came over to India and forced everyone to learn this penmanship. It wasn’t really worth anything. In music, it’s like forcing it on them like a discipline.” Do you go into all of that when people ask you about the name? Were there any other name contenders when Cursive formed back in 1995?
Tim Kasher: Haha, this is already fun. I just looked up Naipaul to try and remember which book it was. I think it was The Mimic Men. It was part of curriculum at the time, though I don’t recall which class it was for. It was all very long ago, okay? But yes, this is all true, and no, I rarely to never bring up this actual reason. It’s so pretentious that I even kept it from my bandmates for many years! But yeah, we ultimately chose it because it felt like a word we could settle into and make our own. A word that could eventually lose its initial meaning when considering/discussing the band. Something innocuous is what we wanted, which may be the antithesis of Band Name Bureau.
I reached out to the original Cursive bandmates and asked if we had any alternate names prior to Cursive, as I couldn’t recall... but we did! We had considered Blondo, which is the street on which Matt Maginn and I grew up. It’s a nice enough street name, but clearly has too much connotation, making for a troublesome band name. Too similar to Blondie, but also, sounds like some dumb nickname for a blonde person? Glad that name didn’t stick.
BNB: One of the things about having a long-running band is being stuck with a certain name. How have your feelings toward the name Cursive changed over the years, if they have?
TK: I’ve been fine with this innocuous name! Back to its initial concept/definition, I still appreciate that it’s a writing term. And now I can appreciate that it’s a dying discipline: how fitting!
Cursive
BNB: Speaking of innocuous, this is something I ask everyone: Do you think it’s better to have an innocuous name, or something that sticks out, even if it’s bad?
TK: I suppose there are GREAT names out there, and sure, I guess any of us band namers would love to grab for that brass ring. But yikes, what if you think you grabbed greatness, just to be ridiculed by all because not only is your name very bad, but it’s also clear that YOU thought it was really cool? Haha, I dunno, just a scenario. I can’t claim to have ever gone through such psychosis. But yes, innocuous can be good. Cool + innocuous, even better. At risk of sounding too diplomatic, I also think there’s justification going the other route. Diarrhea Planet was such a dumb name, I just HAD to check them out. [Featured in the 2010 Year in Band Names. -ed.] And it was good! Mineral is a great band, but boy, what an innocuous name. I can’t imagine too many folks heard that name and thought, “Damn, I gotta check this out!” Could certainly apply the same to Cursive.
BNB: Your high school band was called Slowdown Virginia. I’ve heard very little of its music, but that sounds like a second-wave emo name. I can mentally see a flyer with Cap’n Jazz, Slowdown Virginia, Mineral, Christie Front Drive, and Jimmy Eat World. Am I off base? Also, as far as high school band names go, Slowdown Virginia is very mature. My high school band was briefly called Schooled Stupid.
TK: Haha, yes it could fit the ’90s emo mold—must have been something in the Midwestern water back then, because we chose that name prior to knowing of any of these bands. I’ve always thought of the name as “very local band”; I love the local band name that sounds like an in-joke, or a tribute to a loved one, possibly both. I will now invent a few “local band” names for you. See what you think: Patrick’s Recliner, A New Dress For Dina, Grandpa’s Porch. You like? These are on the house. On The House! Another band name, potentially local. Slowdown Virginia, by the way, is neither an in-joke nor a tribute to anyone, but it sounds like both. I was obsessed with the state of Virginia after taking my brother to college out there, but mostly I think I was obsessed with anywhere that wasn’t my hometown.
BNB: It’s funny you describe Slowdown Virginia as a “very local band” name, because I think the best names come from otherwise anonymous local bands who have no ambition beyond playing some shitball local venue that’s mostly a sports bar. Those bands have nothing to lose by choosing a ridiculous name, and they’re often hilarious. Patrick’s Recliner, A New Dress for Dina, and Grandpa’s Porch all fit that mold 100%. I think they should form for a one-off show post-COVID.
TK: Certainly a double-edged sword, because I agree with you that many great names are from the kids who don’t give a shit. The OTHER edge, the one I was considering, are those very earnest kids who hope their obscure band name turns out to actually be really cool. I was/am one of those kids.
BNB: How did you settle on the Good Life as the name for your other project?
TK: It’s the Nebraska state motto! And this time around, I embrace the pretension of the title: It represents that unreachable American Dream that Sears was always trying to shove down our throats.
BNB: How much do you notice or think about band names? As a working musician who’s logged a million miles on the road, what insights do you have into what makes a good—or even just adequate—name?
TK: Sure, I think about names a lot. Soccer Mommy is a great name for discussion. [Featured in the Year in Band Names 2016! –ed.] I love Soccer Mommy, but thankfully I heard the music before hearing the name; had it been the other way around I’m not so sure I’d be a Soccer Mommy fan right now.
There is certainly a methodology to band naming. Pile is monosyllabic, blunt, feels a little raw and basic—it’s reminiscent of ’90s post-hardcore to me, and that’s a fair assessment of what they sound like. Obviously, if you go the route of Mumford and Sons or Avett Brothers, you won’t be surprised to be playing Bonnaroo. Though, to be fair, these could also be soul/R&B, so these aren’t steadfast rules.
BNB: Soccer Mommy gets to another question I often ask people: Has a name ever turned you off so much you didn’t bother listening? Is there a band that you think you would like but can’t get over their name?
TK: Hmm... Meshuggah is a name that nearly repels me. But I threw them on last year, and they are pretty fucking cool. But I could’ve spent a lot more time with them over the years, had that name not been in the way. Ooh, I bet a lot of people are having trouble with Illuminati Hotties. [Year in Band Names 2018. –ed.] I have yet to check them out, but I don’t feel offended or turned off by the name, as it is so very clearly goofy. Honestly, Soccer Mommy would’ve been that band, had I not gotten into the music prior to knowing the name. But moving forward, I do tend to be wary of the new generation of “parental” names—mom this, dad that, Moms, Dads, Great Grandpa. (I do happen to like Great Grandpa.)
BNB: You have many friends who are also musicians. Have you ever thought any of them selected an especially good or bad name?
TK: Neva Dinova comes to mind. Funny thing is, this could be placed in my “local band name” category, as it is merely the name of Jake Bellows’ grandmother. But come on, what a beautiful name. She had a beautiful name that lives on for a beautiful band!
BNB: Do any names that you’ve encountered over the years stick out now?
TK: Similar to Soccer Mommy, Tropical Fuck Storm feels like an “Are you with me or against me?” kind of name. [Year in Band Names 2018. -ed.] I didn’t know what to think about this goofy name or the goofy band that would name themselves this. But also... it left me a tad intrigued. I got around to listening to them and fell in love with the whole thing, and now I find the name oddly fitting for this unusual band.
POST-SCRIPTS
Many thanks to Tim for chatting. FUN FACT: I wrote the liner notes for the reissue of Cursive’s damn-near-perfect The Ugly Organ.
Speaking of Tropical Fuck Storm, I received a press release as I wrote this that they just dropped a cover of the Talking Heads’ “Heaven.” It’s fine.
Patrick’s Recliner, A New Dress For Dina, Grandpa’s Porch are all open for the post-COVID one-off show. I’m partial to the first two myself. Let’s do this.
BNB alumni A. Swayze & the Ghosts have a new album called Paid Salvation dropping on Friday. A few tracks are available to hear now on their Bandcamp. I’m partial to “Nothing Left to Do,” which is on Spotify. Psyched!