by Myles Tiessen (@myles_tiessen)
Jen Bender’s vulnerability cuts through Thanks So Much with the same corporeality of blazing stars in the night sky. Clear, infinite, ever-distant, yet tangible. On “The Alternative”–the opening track of Cusp’s new EP–after a ceaseless list of grievances, Bender sings, somewhere between a mumble and a shout, “I think people are good; they just make mistakes.” The guitars wash up in a tidal wave of resonance, and the band lets the drums sit thick and heavy. Like Bender’s biting lyrics, the song begins and ends with arresting starkness.
The Chicago-based outfit’s new EP is as much an indie record as it is a grunge, shoegaze, or pop record. A dreamy, psychedelic-infused ambience underpins its entirety, allowing crunchy, reverberating guitars to smash through the speakers with well-curated intensity.
Thanks So Much is a loud EP, and Cusp definitely knows the importance of volume. But most importantly, they understand the importance of tranquillity. The lone guitar at the beginning of “You Can’t See Me” backs Bender’s dizzying lyrical flow, echoing with the steel tone of emotional isolation. Later, the keys enter a harmonious dance with the lead guitar, and the synchronicity of the interplay brings a sort of refreshing warmth and hope to the track. It’s the slight, understated moments like this that elevate Cusp above other indie-rock peers.
On the stunning “Window,” expeditious lyrics spill from Bender’s mouth with the touch of both stream-of-conscious mania and carefully curated poetry. Between subtle vocal inflections, she laments, “You are the glass, I am the pane/ Feeling the shame that we are one and the same.” Later in the song, the tempo dramatically shifts into the EP’s most muted moment. An isolated piano, staccato and adrift, melancholically plays the song’s melody before a blast of drums and My Bloody Valentine-esque guitars jump back in with jarring whiplash.
In “You Can’t See Me,” her mental narrative is directed at a blurry target. When she sings, “You can’t hurt me,” it’s unclear whether she’s talking to somebody else or herself. To Bender, it doesn’t really matter so long as the symptoms are the same. The nuclear synth acting as her transgressive and disoriented state of mind divides the track in half before we’re thrown back into Bender’s fragmented soul. “What if it was like a fever dream/ Brilliant and frightening/It’s good for my health.”
Like the passenger train on the EP’s cover, grinding to a halt, scorched in orange flames and toxic black smoke, the emotional turmoil of Thanks So Much burns bright and fast. Bender’s most urgent reflection simply and adroitly captures the desire for growth amidst her pain. “I’m grateful,” she sings, “I hate being so hateful.”