Tag Archives: The Cure

Horse Play

May 1, 2017 by
Photography by Scott Drickey

It’s unusual for a band to provide its live audiences with a complimentary Filipino buffet during a show, but on a Sunday in late February at O’Leaver’s Bar, Omaha natives See Through Dresses enlisted the aid of friends and family to do just that for the band’s “Sunday Social,” just before heading to Austin, Texas, for the South by Southwest Music Festival.

The four-piece ensemble, comprised of (vocalist and guitarist) Matt Carroll, (guitarist, keyboardist, and vocalist) Sara Bertuldo, (drummer) Nate Van Fleet, and (bassist) Alex Kirts, evolved from Carroll and Bertuldo’s previous band Honey and Darling in 2012. Carroll and Bertuldo share principal songwriting duties, but the dynamic between all four members fits the true definition of a band. “Alex and I kind of act like arrangers,” Van Fleet says. “Sara might come to us with a song that’s 70 percent complete, and we’re there to hash it out and turn it into something our band could play.”

Van Fleet, who is also the drummer for Omaha locals Little Brazil, elaborated further on what makes playing with See Through Dresses fruitful for him: “I played with a lot of bands before. In fact, Matt and Sara found me in a bar the night my last band was breaking up, and it was like finding these people who were just as obsessed with doing the same things I wanted to. There are lots of bands out there where somebody’s character flaws or poor priorities keep them from reaching their potential. There’s never been that ‘intervention’ moment with this band.” They pride themselves on their work ethic, Van Fleet says. Since forming, they’ve played more than 200 shows.

Despite this commitment to craft, they are hardly pretentious. “I applied for band sponsorship from Taco Bell,” Bertuldo says, laughing. The revelation devolves into jokes: “What if somebody wrote See Through Dresses/Taco Bell fan-fiction?” Bertuldo asks. “I’m not saying I want to see it,” Van Fleet chimes in, “but I’m also not saying I don’t want to see it!”

In fact, catching Bertuldo’s banter with the audience when she’s on stage is a major reason to see the band live.  At their “Sunday Social,” for example, she sported a new short hairdo, along with some vocal regrets. “That last song was called ‘Haircut,’ but it’s not about my hair. It’s actually about Macaulay Culkin,” she cryptically explains to the audience. Bertuldo is the chief conduit for the band’s energy during shows—shredding and kicking her way through the heaviest songs, and even jumping off equipment and nearby furniture.

This spring, See Through Dresses finally releases their second full-length album, after a self-titled debut in 2013 and 2015’s End of Days EP. The band describes the new release, The Horse of the Other World (written mostly while touring their previous EP), as their “synth” album, a love letter to the ’80s. “There’s always been a little ’80s influence in our music—that new wave, post-punk stuff we all love,” Carroll says, repeatedly citing The Cure, New Order, and Depeche Mode as primary influences. “Our EP was a little more rock-flavored, but this album sounds like a natural progression from our self-titled record.”

“It’s a very indulgent record,” Van Fleet quips. “It satisfies a lot of the urges we had while we were touring the EP. The sound is a little harsher and more dissonant here, too.” The band describes this evolution as something akin to “dream punk,” combining the energy of classic punk rock with a polychromatic sound recalling sunny afternoon daydreams.

Yet lurking deeper on The Horse of the Other World are more thoughtful ruminations on mental health and keeping control of one’s mind. Carroll, who is also a manager at Ted and Wally’s Ice Cream, explains the title comes from a surreal experience with an unknown vagrant last year. “It was this strange and beautiful moment of connecting with someone on their own terms,” Carroll says. He sat with the man in the store and listened to his story, and his allegations that the “Great Mother and Father” would soon visit us riding on “the horse of the other world.” The man grabbed a box of markers from his bag, and wrote down the phrase on a napkin for him in bright red.

The event had a big influence on Carroll during the songwriting process, which was already circling around themes of addiction and hitting bottom. “A lot of these things converged that hit me hard. Both my own experiences and those of friends,” he explains. “The lyrics on our opening track speak to this and mean a lot to me: Sometimes you’re trying to reach out at people, but they can’t open up. I wanted to address that barrier and feeling of helplessness.”

Carroll adds he doesn’t like to “dance around the subject and speak in hushed tones when we talk about mental health.” Together the band shared anecdotes about loved ones and friends losing their grip on reality, either through drugs, depression, or diseases like Alzheimer’s. Bertuldo’s contributions to the album face these issues, as well, using touch points like loneliness and bad relationships to explore them. “I think this is a big deal about what’s inspiring us: The great fear of your mind or your body turning on you,” Carroll says. “We’re not OK with people walking the streets dying of cancer. But when we encounter someone in public with serious mental health needs, it’s our impulse to flee. That’s upsetting.”

As for the namesake’s creator, Carroll laments: “I wish I could track him down again.”

Visit seethroughdresses.bandcamp.com for more information about The Horse of the Other World and the band’s previous releases.

This article is in the May/June 2017 edition of Omaha Magazine.

Keeping Up With Kasher

February 3, 2017 by
Illustration by Derek Joy

Anyone who went to dances or homecoming festivities at Creighton Prep, Marian, Duchesne Academy, Cathedral, or other Omaha high schools from late-1989 through the early ’90s probably bounced their head to the beat of a cover band called The March Hares. At the time, no one realized they were witnessing one of the most original talents ever to come out of Omaha.

Tim Kasher,  “like most ragged teenage guitar players,” had already been bitten by the underground bug when he and four Prep mates, including Matt Maginn and Matt Oberst, older brother of future indie singer-songwriter Conor Oberst, formed the group. They performed covers of bands like The Clash, The Cure, and R.E.M. in public, while playing original music in one another’s basements.

“It was a good little business,” recalls Kasher fondly, from his home in Los Angeles. “We found what got us most excited and, instead of baseball, it was music.”

tim-kasherMore than 25 years later, music still gets the indie rocker excited and “out of bed every morning.”  He’s writing and recording original songs for his current bands, Cursive and The Good Life. He’s also using his degree in English from the University of Nebraska-Lincoln to write screenplays and, as always, testing the limits of his vocal cords.

“It’s definitely getting tougher to push the voice,” admits Kasher, 42, whose nasal and sometimes pitchy cries of anguish make his voice unmistakable. “I long to be 20 again, when I could scream as much as I wanted to. I can’t mistreat it now.”

Kasher will have to pace himself this spring when he goes on tour promoting a new solo album, his third. Titled No Resolution, the album comes out in March and, according to Kasher, features the lush sounds of strings, which he helped arrange.

True to form, Kasher wrote and directed a low-budget, feature-length film of the same name that uses all the songs from the album. “The film No Resolution is about a couple in their 30s who get engaged because she’s pregnant,” Kasher explains. “It’s set over New Year’s Eve, an appropriate backdrop to expose that the guy isn’t quite ready.”

Omahans saw an early edit of the film during the Omaha Film Festival last March. The final cut comes out this summer. Unlike many of his lyrics, the movie contains no autobiographical details. A happy and devoted Kasher married an editor at L.A. Weekly about one year ago. The couple live in the Silver Lake neighborhood, where they mingle with a sizeable group of Omaha transplants.
The musician’s private contentment hasn’t tempered his desire for professional independence. With the new year comes an announcement sure to send tremors through Omaha’s indie sphere: Kasher now has his own record label called 15 Passenger, a nod to an old touring van.

“The new album is on it. We also have all our master reels for Cursive, so we’re going to be releasing our back catalog, along with new stuff” he says. “We’re not planning on getting into the game of taking big gambles on new artists. Just self-releasing.”

What about Omaha-based Saddle Creek Records, the label formed and grown, in part, from Kasher’s talent? “Saddle Creek is alive and well. We’re just transitioning over.”

With a new album, new film, and a new record label, the beat goes on for Tim Kasher.

Visit timkasher.com for more information.

Très Johnson

February 4, 2014 by
Photography by Bill Sitzmann

Très Johnson is pouring water in a slow, circular motion around a paper filter resting just inside a glass jar. Inside the filter, coffee grounds are mixing with the water, tiny bubbles forming on the surface of the gritty liquid. The glass chamber below collects the drippings of fresh, dark coffee.

At 1010 S. Main St. in Council Bluffs, (drips) coffee shop serves only pour-over coffee.

Johnson had wanted to open a coffee shop almost since he managed one back in 1995. Unfortunately, “the cost of the machinery prohibits just jumping in,” he says.

He and his girlfriend, Amber Jacobsen, took a trip to San Francisco about a year and a half ago. There, they visited Blue Bottle Coffee, which does pour-over coffee—Johnson’s first taste of it.

“It was the best cup of coffee I’d had,” Johnson says. “And I realized it took a smaller amount of equipment to be able to make it. You just had to boil water, have the filter and the stand. And I actually use glass Ball jars instead of a stand.”

Re-inspired by this method, Johnson opened (drips) on July 1, 2013.

This particular brew is Nightingale Blend, roasted by Beansmith Coffee in Omaha, and prepared in a personal pour-over, which has four drips. He also uses a Chemex frequently, with a single drip.

“I do have some French presses and an AeroPress,” Johnson says. “But I’ve found that the pour-over just tastes better. The people that insist on French press have tried the pour-over, and now they don’t insist on the French press anymore.”

A coffee shop is the perfect place to be on a day like this—cold and rainy. Amber is doing a puzzle. Two locals are enjoying their pour-overs and accusing Amber of cheating by looking at the photo on the puzzle box.

(drips) is located in a mixed-use space occupied by artists, including low-income artist housing. The coffee shop definitely has an artsy feel, probably because Johnson is both a painter and a DJ.

One half of the wall space displays Johnson’s art. The other half is space for rotating guest shows.

For Valentine’s Day, (drips) will display the work of approximately 20 local artists in a show called “Lovesong,” named for The Cure song. A Brian Tait show will open mid-February.

The Cure is already present in lyrics painted onto Johnson’s pieces. He often uses stencils to inscribe lyrics from bands like Depeche Mode and Joy Division—words that “people from the ’80s, if they know the song, they connect with.”

He describes his style as “heavily influenced by street art, and then some post-World War II art thrown in.”

“When I’m tired of painting and waiting for paint to dry, I produce music,” he says with a laugh.

He DJs a set every Sunday night for an online radio station, lowercasesounds.com. “Then that’s what I listen to generally throughout the week when I’m painting,” he says. “I listen to it over and over again, because I usually listen to newer music or music that I just picked up. I listen and paint.”

Johnson describes his sound as “deep house and ambient.” He DJs Silicon Prairie News events, like Big Omaha, and he has recently released EPs on the label Deep Site Space.

“There’s always been a combination of the music in the art,” Johson says. “They’re both something that I let myself go into. I don’t really sweat it. I just let it all flow.”