The first half of their set was definitely the dusty country road type of
music that you play with your friends when you live in the middle of no where and have nothing to do all summer but drink some beers and play songs. In other words, they threw in some country-juice. But hey, I didn't hate it.The second half of the set, however, got into some pretty heavy jams from what I can remember (this was about a month ago, sorry for not updating). Not only jams, but jams between lovesongs. Cassavettes are the type of band that girls want to trust, to have them write a song about you -- the one who got away, the one they'll never forget.
Somehow they have the ability to make you take those country-cliche lyrics seriously, because you know Mike McCullagh (lead vocals/guitar) means it. But enough about the country. Indie guitar hooks and chord progressions turn their songs from superficial compositions into raw, sincere music. Listen to "The Devil's Arms," and you'll understand.
Bass beats and percussion two steps mimic Tokyo Police Club, the texture and spontaneity of vocals echo Brand New and the Format. Maybe I'm biased thanks to guitarist Glenn Yoder (guitar/vocals/piano/whatever)'s Epiphone electric in cherry red (just like mine), but his hooks are poignant and precise -- each motion has purpose.
Their performance was perfect for the lighthearted venue, but on record the music is much more clear: they're heartbreakers and heartbroken, blatent in "Carolyn, Don't Leave like This."
Don't worry guys, I'm not going anywhere. In fact, I'm picking up your album on Wednesday.
