Cursed
- Story by Shane Mehling
Caustic Canucks Cursed set their marks on III
Here’s a brief list of targets on Cursed’s new record:
Jerry Falwell
Geriatric rock reunions
Neo-yuppie condos
Punk antihero idolatry
Eating your own bullshit
And don’t get frontman Chris Colohan started on MySpace.
“Who cares? Do we need to go through Rupert Murdoch to talk to our 50,000 virtual friends? These things come and go, and in the time it takes, we could just be practicing.”
This kind of social vitriol is nothing new for Colohan, but with III, he and his not-so-merry band of Torontonians have finally created the perfect soundtrack. A blitzkrieg of speaker-injuring riffs and heartburn-inducing drums, Cursed move between grinded metal, wrecking-ball hardcore and impenetrable sludge for your bruised enjoyment. The sour icing on top: Colohan’s terrifying vocals, making most “hardcore” singers sound like wedding emcees. But even more impressive is when the band goes full-on heartbreak with the title track and finale “Gutters,” both instrumental.
“[‘Gutters’] started out with more instruments and we ended up just pulling them back,” explains Colohan. “It sounds like what it is—someone’s melancholic meditation on reaching the natural end of a long road that has put you through all its ups and downs.”
A guiding force on that road was engineer/old friend Donny Cooper. “He’s been there all along,” says Colohan referring to Cooper’s work on the Cursed demo and recent EP, Blackout at Sunrise. “He knows us and how we want the sound to translate. That’s all we needed.” There was also a surprisingly relaxed climate in the studio. “Up until now we’ve always just gone in for really long hours in one big shot and come out with a whole record, but that way your ears get burned out. We took more time with III. The recording wasn’t any more slick or elaborate, but we took breaks.”
Not that Cursed really understand what “taking a break” means. With constant touring and no less than five records on four different labels in less than six years (I know, I hate word problems, too), the term “workhorse” almost seems like an insult. But as a label’s wet dream, why has the band changed so many hands?
“It could have made life a lot easier to sign to one bigger label,” admits Colohan, “but we just never had those kind of goals, or to be in the position to have to make records because of a contract. It’s been just as well to work with a bunch of friends’ labels one at a time and not be just an acquisition on a roster.”
This idea is not more explicitly put than on III’s centerpiece, “Friends in the Music Business,” with the caustic mantra, “Don’t call me / I won’t call you.” Colohan confesses the song was “largely improvised, but it turns out to be the real kicker on the record, venting all our shitty ‘industry’ experiences in one big breath.”
See, if you somehow didn’t know, Colohan and crew—with members from Ruination, Acrid, and 3/4 of the band once in legendary outfit the Swarm—have seen their fair share of fuckery from labels. So, of course, who can pass up asking the innocent question of a Swarm reunion? But any speculation is snuffed right out.
“No chance in hell,” assures Colohan. “I think it would be cheap, and that part of my life meant a lot. I don’t think some sensationalized show or reunion tour could do it justice. I’d honestly rather be playing as the people we are now to 20 kids in a basement. Plus, three of us play together still in Cursed. There’s your Swarm reunion, you jackals.”
So, since there’s obviously no chance of the band looking backward, how does III’s release and a European tour bode for the band’s future? “There’s no world domination outline this time,” says Colohan. “We just really wanted to make the record itself. Christian [McMaster, guitarist] had really bad carpal tunnel, had to have double surgery on his hands that were fucked by years of work and thrash, and have total rehabilitation of them. So we’re gonna see if the European tour doesn’t kill him and go from there.” And what about those lucky fuckers in the great white north? “I actually wish we could tour way the hell north. It’d be some Jack London shit right there.”
For now, only a blessed few are guaranteed the chance to see the band tear up their local stage while they climb over each other to scream a few words into the mic. But what are those lyrics about again? I remember Falwell and old people shitting—something like that—but there’s also an overarching theme that goes with III’s excoriating music.
“Modern man is intentionally kept in a state of psychological turmoil,” summarizes Colohan, “distracted by trivialities that are generated to obscure real and important events and calculatedly traumatize by the feeling of subordination and powerlessness in his social and political world. Basically, being tricked into fatelessness.”
OK, so maybe there are more important things for Cursed to worry about than making a MySpace page. But what about we basement dwellers who need a quick fix, Internet-style? Colohan offers a consolation the only way he can—scornfully. “Right now there’s a blog [yourfuckingfuneral.blogspot.
com]. It’s a quiet little place where no one will ROFL, LOL, LMAO or get PWNED.”
Insert your favorite emoticon here.
