August 3, 2009

Say Hello to COOKIES!

• By Fredrick
• No TrackBacks

I don't often find myself ahead of the musical curve among the indie elite. It was 1998 before I dropped, for the most part, my fascination with mainstream music in lieu of something deeper. By the time I latched on to most of the bands I cherish most now, they were already old news (and as it turned out most of them all hailed from the same Georgian town).  In the case of acts like Love and Frank Zappa, I find myself late to the game by 40 years. However, these days I find myself singing, constantly, the praises of the most exceptional band that no one seems to have heard of... yet.

It was over 10 years after of Montreal's debut album, Cherry Peel, that Rolling Stone awarded them the honor of being a 'hot new band to watch'. Of course this declaration came after the release of over 8 solid albums and a handful of collections and EP's, as well as several prominent stylistic eras and countless band line-ups, including a young gent named Jason NeSmith. Jason was onboard long enough to see the release of an ill-fated single that was nearly washed away by Katrina, and struggled to find an identity on stage with a band which seemed over capacity even before he joined. It was this brief stint with a band that has recently come very much into vogue that has perpetually pinned the suffix (ex-of Montreal) to every mention of NeSmith's band, Casper & the Cookies.

While I adore of Montreal with all my heart, every time I see the Cookies represented in this fashion, it makes me cringe. To reduce the merit of all Casper & the Cookies have accomplished to a petty comparison to a hometown rival isn't just a crying shame, it's a damn crime. Unfortunately this isn't the only misrepresentation that dogs the band; their cutesy name and association with Athens, Georgia based record label Happy Happy Birthday to Me has mentally cataloged this intelligent and skilled band as a twee act. Whereas the genre typically indicates that between the members of the band, they know what a drumstick is used for (and scarcely much else), the Cookies have been criticized for being 'too professional' - whatever the hell that means.

I was first introduced to Casper & the Cookies several years ago through the joys of social networking. A little green bird, which has now found a permanent home on Kay Stanton's arm, delivered a message to a friend of mine who played in a local band that was kind of a big deal in Upstate New York. "Do boy birds have nutsacks?" it asks. This inquiry is less bizarre; considering the band's name was Scrottum (they played their first gig in my South Corning living room so many New Years ago). This was the first time I paid attention to Casper & the Cookies - procuring a copy of the band's debut album, Oh!, from Max that very week.

Though you'd never hear it from the band themselves, Oh! is a little bit brilliant. When the gently crooning voice welcomes you to the album, insisting that it is a true pleasure to be performing for you, you feel the sincerity in the words. From that launching point, the album springboards into a silly romp - often making use of cute lyrics and smart rhymes. While the theme of the album seems to be a light-hearted look at the world through the lens of childish innocence, it never seems condescending or inaccessible, but rather envelopes you in a world where things just don't have to be so damn serious all the time. The crowning moment comes in the form of the song 'My Heart is in My Head', which I still request at every live show.

My first encounter with the band themselves came at the 2006 Athens Popfest. The entire trip was a whirlwind of excitement and a groundbreaking adventure that I undertook with three complete strangers. I was overwhelmed by the stellar line-up that included Athens big-timers like Circulatory System and The Apples in Stereo as well as several visiting acts and a slew of up-and-coming locals. With the list in front of my I went through with a highlighter to make sure I didn't miss anything I'd regret. Among the important acts I noted, aside from the headliners, were a few local bands generating buzz, a few who had little more than an interesting name. There was one exception to my estimation, as there was one name on the line up I was already familiar with.

The show, as I remember it, was amazing. It was the first time I got to see Jim Hix in action, which, for those of you who've yet to experience his stylish dancing, is quite the spectacle. They were up there on stage, celebrating the release of The Optimist's Club which had dropped less than a month prior. Jason was wearing the most wonderful shirt, Jim was decked out with a fake moustache and fake eyebrows (which would later give way to the fabulous false eyelashes they've become associated with), and Kay was waving women's panties at the crowd; bright pink get-ups embroidered with the word YES in bold type across the front - optimists indeed.

Optimist's Club was leaps and bounds ahead of Oh!; sophisticated and witty, it details New York experiences as if they were written by locals. Kay's haunting vocals, which open the album on the track Krötenwanderung, make it perfectly clear that this isn't going to be a rehash of the previous record. Indeed, if the album has any flaw, it comes from the fact that the opening tracks are so strong, they take attention away from the closing tracks, which are equally as potent. Learn How To Disappear was my theme song during my first couple months in New York, as I had effectively found a city to live in with no one I knew, and the overall New York flavor was a great soundtrack to exploring the big city.

After that show in Athens, I must have seen the Cookies tour with The Optimist's Club ten times or more. The next time was at The Bowery Ballroom as they opened for The Apples in Stereo (a perfect combination). This was the first time I really met the band, which now included Joe Rowe on the drums, and they left such a good impression on me that I've been to every NYC area show since. From the HHBTM CMJ showcase at The Tank, to the pitiful (at no fault of their own) show in the back room of Galapagos at 2 A.M. where Joe did an Echo and the Bunnymen cover. The following day we met for burritos in Ditmas on Cinco De Mayo. One night at Maxwell's in Hoboken there wasn't a single person standing still as they closed their set with "Hey Mr. Superstar". Semi-local rockers Arizona helped me rile the stiff Jersey crowd into an all-out dance party.

From the west coast to the Far East the Cookies championed the new sound; touring extensively from Athens to New York, to California and everywhere in between. Early in 2008 Jason, Kay, Jim, and Joe packed their bags and took a flight to Japan in support of The Optimist's club. The group, guided by their Waikiki label mates Elekibass, took a condensed super tour of Japan. Caught in a whirlwind of foreign oblivion, the Cookies found themselves in a surrealist mix of careless stardom and jet lagged delirium. Most of this is documented beautifully on video in an 8 episode mini-series. When they landed back in the United States the line-up took a dramatic shift as Joe Rowe left the band. Despite what you might have heard, Joe wasn't fired to lighten economic burdens. Joe wasn't fired at all, he left to care for his family and focus on his own musical aspirations. His band has been working on some material. From what I've heard, it sounds great.

The summer before the band split the country, something was happening at their live shows. New songs were popping up in the set lists; tributes to the avant stylings of a fictional jazz-loving mime, throwbacks to the bug hunting childhood of the group's tomboy, exaltations to the asshole in everyone's life (you bumbling retard). One night at the Cakeshop Jason serenaded my friends and I on the tailgate of their tour van with an acoustic version of Chocolate Cake and Coffee. Then came the Daytrotter session (for the second time), sedating the people anticipating the next album - Modern Silence. Coupled with the amazing live sets and the three preview songs from the Daytrotter session (a fourth which didn't make the album is a holiday song - but with cussing) it was clear that the upcoming album would be the strongest yet.

There was still a long wait between the debut of the new material and the May 12^th release of Modern Silence, but the anxiousness was alleviated slightly in October when the band debuted one new track every week in anticipation for the new album. The first track was Little King (which has an animated music video coming soon, swear to God), a wonderful track about the joys of being under 21 followed by Sunshine Girls, a bright number as lovely as Kay Stanton who sings it. The third song was a soulful ballad from Jim Hix that evokes the spirit of Culture Club. As a final treat the band released the track You Love Me, an epic collaboration between all three of the members.

Though it felt like ages had passed between the days where I'd play those same four tracks over and over again at work in that famous Brooklyn burger restaurant, the release day of Modern Silence finally came, and there wasn't an ounce of disappointment in me. Each song was a living entity, and through the complex weave it all comes together beautifully before devolving into the experimental Post Modern Silence suite.

While the power players on this record are obvious; Little King and Sharp are both forerunners for single status, and the refreshingly eccentric Pete Erchick Bicentennial Service Area is, strangely enough, as accessible as it is unique. Little Lady Larva, a song from Kay's archives, still gets me going and Hix's Nagoya, about the aforementioned tour through Japan, is one of the most fun tracks on the album. The highlights to me come in quiet whispers among the shouts as NeSmith drops existential lines like "Why give birth? Why get born? Why give hope to your fellow man and start the pain again?" in a song about an affair, or the charming quaintness of Keep Talking in which the protagonist falls in love with the way a foreigner speaks. New Day Zero is another example of a track that might get overshadowed by its bolder companions, but the beauty is far from lost.

It was a bold move to release a true double LP in the age of iTunes and the ever-shrinking attention span of the typical American music listener, but clearly there isn't a single filler track to be found. When examining this sort of masterpiece, as with epic novels like Don Quixote and movies like There Will Be Blood, you have to come to terms with the fact that great things just take longer to express. Jason NeSmith is the Daniel Day-Lewis of pop music. The ellipsis of Modern Silence is the looming three track colossus at the end of the album; the Post Modern Silence suite. Much like Frank Zappa's "Help, I'm a Rock!" on his album Freak Out! I Am Gone shares more in common with Return of the Son of Monster Magnet than the track time, however. Both songs are stunning examples of song-smiths taking a huge lump of raw material and crafting it interesting and textured collages. Whereas Zappa used Hollywood Freaks for his experiment, NeSmith relies on a huge stable of talented musician friends and neighbors.

Perhaps the biggest crime committed against Casper & the Cookies was that they came into this world at the wrong time. While their music retains a timeless quality, it also seems ahead of its time. Their work ethic is unrivaled by most modern band (if you doubt that, look at the extensive tour list from 2007), and NeSmith's painstaking quest for perfection leaves the material lacking only one thing - crap. And while you might not have heard of Casper & the Cookies prior to this, there's no time like the present to get on board. Modern Silence is available now on CD, double vinyl LP, and as digital download.