There was a time in American popular music history where record reviews and music writing was almost more revered than the music it was written about. The age of Robert Christgau, Greil Marcus and Lester Bangs, which began in the late 60s and extends to, in my mind, the birth of the internet and online reviews in the mid 1990s, encompassed a wide range of music, and the birth and death of more than a few genres. This was an era in which people used up a lot of energy trying to talk about how music sounded, and trying to place it in a grand historical canon. The reviews were pieces of art as well as the songs, and whatever someone like Lester Bangs wrote about you was how a large portion of the nation would see you.
I only say that to say that times have changed for writing music reviews. I’m not even going to bother trying to make this review a piece of art. But some things don’t change, and one of those things is really good songwriting.
The music of Chicago singer-songwriter Cass Cwik sounds like it would fit in right at home in the beginning of this era, the late 60s and early 70s Laurel Canyon songwriter scene and the “California Smile”-era of writing. Cass kind of reminds me of an unironic version of the Blue Jean Committee from the “Documentary Now” series. He’s a man who lives and writes and works in Chicago, yet the music he makes reminds one of distant sea shores, the relaxed conversation of a Venice Beach Cafe, or the sound of your car breaking down as you drive up I-5, smoking your last cigarette and wishing you hadn’t eaten your last Black Beauty amphetamine pill last night and instead had saved it for this morning.
And that’s really not a bad thing, trust me. It’s a good feeling. Mid July, Cass Cwik released a pair of songs, the A side titled “How it Feels (Goin Down)” and the B side called “Ballad in the Midday Sun.” Cass says these songs are about loneliness and addiction, but when I hear them, it’s more like resigned appreciation for life’s various depravities. The music isn’t sad by any means. It’s relaxing, peaceful, only a hint of melancholy on the second track which goes down smooth with a tasteful pedal steel part, played by Nick Usalis. The rest of the band is rounded out by Cam Cowles on drums, Kyle Crager on bass, and Brendan Griffin on electric guitar. The song describes someone coming to terms with the fact that their life isn’t good anymore. It’s just not fun. But even so, there is a peace to be found. Life may beat you down time and again, and you may find yourself in one horrific situation after the other. Okay, maybe horrific is too strong a word… perhaps, disappointing? Yes, the narrator certainly sounds disappointed with his circumstances. But that’s not the end of the world. They realize, out in the midday sun with only the shirt on their back, that life isn’t necessarily always good, but it is definitely bearable. After all, it’s only life, and once you realize something is wrong you can start fixing it.
That’s what I like about these songs. They aren’t morose, they don’t lean on melancholia like a crutch. Instead, sadness is wielded like tiny colored dots in a Seurat painting. It’s pointillist in nature, you don’t realize what the big picture is until you take a step back. It’s good music for aimless driving, or pretending you’re in a movie while you’re walking around in the sun with a cigarette (or juul, if you’ve evolved) hanging out of your mouth. In other words, it’s the kind of stuff I really like. And so I’m recommending it to you. Go listen to his new songs.
He has also put out a pair of videos to go with the songs, both of which can be found on YouTube as well. The videos add a nice visual element to the music; there’s no cheesy “storyline” or goofy gimmicks, it’s just good old fashioned nostalgic wandering–a perfect complement to the music.
Cass and his band are also playing the Hideout on Saturday, August 10th with Jack Name, if you want to see them live. All the details are included as an event link on Facebook at the bottom of the article. RSVP here.