The Game of Monogamy

It's an album's worth of lamentation for accidentally getting older, and it's one of Kasher's most affecting albums to date. [Nov 2010, p.114]

All in all, Monogamy is a bit underwhelming, but there is understated humor in Kasher's musings, and he has a flair for infectious melodies without hooks. He snaps the puzzle pieces together, whether it's a fit or not.

So far into his career this record might easily be overlooked, yet given the chance it's both a moving and rewarding listen.

While his newfound symphonic leanings (hello, string section!) are welcome, the real soul of Monogamy is in its theme: Practically every song explores the relatable yo-yo of emotions that accompanies the transition between indiscreet youthfulness and faithful suburban adulthood.

This is considerably more poppy than what you'd expect from Cursive, and it's clear: Kasher has never been content with playing it safe.

As with most of Kasher's work, the main draws of Monogamy aren't really musical--words always get prominence over melody. Simply put, if you get a spark out of idealizing your romantic failures by doing things like drunkenly Googling ex-girlfriends (as he does in great detail on "There Must Be Something I've Lost"), listening to Monogamy as a whole is like dousing yourself in gasoline.

There's not a song here that feels useful outside the context of another chapter in Kasher's discography, and thus ultimately doesn't seem likely to inspire much emotion outside of the core Saddle Creek crowd.

In small doses, it's insightful and infectious, but after a whole album's worth of introspection Kasher starts to sound like a bit of a whinge bag. [Jan 2011, p.138]

It's at times shocking how off-key the album actually is. The music switches between dry and histrionic. The lyrics are flat and repetitive.

His debut solo album sports lyrics of the sort Loudon Wainwright III has been writing for decades, set to harp, oboe, strings, and horns. Lacerating sentiments clash with pretty sounds as Kasher holds forth on his "death wish," detailing the foibles of prodigal husbands.

Monogamy falls somewhere near the bottom rung. The indie game has changed. Without the Cursive name behind him, Tim Kasher is, sadly, not much of a player.

Beneath the snappy hooks and horn melodies, "Cold Love" is a grim catalogue of a moribund relationship. A similar sound shrouds an especially discomfiting trip into his id, "Bad, Bad Dreams." Other songs, like "The Prodigal Husband" and "There Must Be Something I've Lost," have fewer accoutrements to soften the blows. But it all works.

As poetry alone, it's interesting, but the music's elegance make it something more. [Jan 2011, p.93]