REVIEW: Cusp – You Can Do It All

This is the self-released debut album from a recently transplanted Chicago foursome by way of Rochester, New York. Singer/songwriter Jen Bender (this is a really good name, btw) has said she wrote a number of these songs in a flurry, inspired by the move to a new city. In my mind’s eye, a giant ethereal Liz Phair stands astride the Chicago River like an indie Colossus muse, providing inspiration and succour to those who can see her. So, Bender’s story checks out.

The album starts off quietly on the brief opener ‘O.K.’ with plaintive, spare piano, and then guitar, followed by strings, as Bender laments that everything is, in fact, not o.k. This sounds to me a bit like some of the pretty, but spooky, interludes on Exile in Guyville (40th anniversary this year! Good god), but maybe I’m talking myself into this. I readily admit to being hung up on Liz Phair. She is more Chicago to me than, say, Saul Bellow or celery salt on hot dogs.

You might initially think you are in for a subdued experience here, but the band then whips directly into the second track, ‘Dead Things Talk.’ Cusp hits the pavement running with this Malkmus-y tune that has immediately vaulted into my working list of favorite 2023 tracks. The catchy song has been ricocheting around my brainpan nearly nonstop for two weeks now.

Cusp then boxes the listener’s ears, now suitably primed and pricked, with its essence: loud, well-crafted crunchy songs with fuzzy edges, like kettle chips briefly dropped under the couch. Tasty, but occasioning a slight unease. I ate this record up.

Cusp plays noise pop with a dollop of shoegaze, leaning more to the crisp, hooky sound of the latter genre’s Swervedriver or Ride. Kudos to the engineering; this album sounds fantastic, evading any muddiness. If I’m really searching for a comp, and I am, the band gives off a Throwing Muses vibe, which is a very nice vibe indeed.

The album is compact and solid without a wasted moment in its tight 33 minutes. There is not a bad song. Highlights for me are the boisterous, melodic ‘Limited Edition’ and ‘Inside Out,’ the jazzy, stuttering ‘…My Two Cents’ and the barn raiser/burner of a closer, ‘The Hum,’ that reminded me of the hugely underrated Slothrust.

Chicago has spawned several bands that have given me a great deal of pleasure, recorded and live, recently: Finom, Horsegirl, Twin Peaks, Dehd among them. Cusp fits right into this vibrant scene. A review of a self-released debut is a good time to reiterate this plea: Go see these bands and others like them. Buy their merch. I’m not going to begrudge anyone their Taylor Swift Concert Experience (except for Matty Healy, that skeezy fop, c’mon Taylor). But Taylor tickets in the upper deck of a crap football stadium are going for like $1,300 per. You could see Cusp about 100 times for that money, be right up against the stage, and a buy a shirt from the drummer at a table near the no-lines restrooms. All the cool weird and the weird cool kids will be there, and the music will be better. Trust me on this one.

Also, re: Cusp—somebody sign these guys!

Words by Rick Larson