Tim Kasher whether writing from personal experience or simply creating characters wants you to know that men are terrible.  Throughout his multitude of bands whether they be the hard rocking Cursive, the more melodic and acoustic Good Life or his self titled work, Kasher has become a surgeon dissecting past relationships to show the flaws that we have and create in one another.  He doesn’t let the men in his songs shirk the responsibility for the things that they’ve done.  

This brings us to The Good Life’s third album and inarguably their magnum opus, “Album of the Year”.  A title that is grandiose but also connects the theme of twelve songs, each one for a different month of the year.  Detailing the rise, fall and eventual breakup of an unnamed man and woman.  The album is mostly acoustic with a few rowdier tracks thrown in for good measure.  

When it comes to most breakup albums most male singer/songwriters are keeping one eye open for the subject of their next breakup album.  Much like the lovelorn main characters of a wide array of romantic comedies, they are blameless and only want to find their one true love.  Kasher doesn’t operate that way, “Album of the Year” is more “Scott Pilgrim Vs. The World” than every John Hughes movie in existence, Kasher’s main character is a jerk and you need to know that.  

The eponymous track starts us off with the line “the first time that I met you I was throwing up in a ladies room stall” to show you that this is not going to be a romance to tell the grandkids about.  The song charges forward with a strong riff as he details his girlfriend bringing him tomato soup but much like the soup, the relationship quickly cools.  Finally, it features the two of them going through their belongings as they separate before they see something that reminds them of old times and “we started laughing until it didn’t hurt”. 

It says something about the strength of Kasher’s songwriting that he’s able to cram the plot of a short film into one five minute song.  It’s easy to see how he’s been working in the music business for the last thirty years.  Evident not only through this album but most of his back catalog.  

The stories don’t end there, the next track “Night and Day” features Kasher on accordion and a lilting lullaby of a melody, deep sighs echoing in the background.  Telling the sad story of a girl that he once knew with cuts on her legs that tended bar.  Detailing her sadness with the masterful hand of an expert storyteller.  

The next track “Under a Honeymoon” shows a pair falling for each other quickly but it’s all just an act.  They know it but they’re not talking about it.  The lyrics and melody sounding like a plea that they just forget and go with the flow, letting themselves feel good for once as the song ends like a crashing wave.  

The denial continues in the next song “You’re No Fool” accompanied by a driving melody and some sleazy trumpet.  Kasher tells the story of a woman struggling to convince herself that she’s not being cheated on.  The title repeated at the end as if she’s repeating it to herself to make it real.  

A riot of a song “Notes in His Pocket” continues this tale of infidelity as someone slams the keys of a piano.  This time the wantonness is obvious and everyone is talking behind the woman’s back.  Kasher calls for the woman to catch this man in the act and punish him.  

The cracks in the relationship become fissure sized over the next two songs “You’re Not You” and “October Leaves”.  The former shows the woman in the relationship realizing how she’s changed and her partner’s image of her is not the same as hers, which leads them to becoming cold towards one another at the end of the latter.  Both songs feature little more than Kasher on guitar as they come to startling different ends.  

The man gets to testify in the eighth song, “Lovers Need Lawyers” another lively track with more of a rock vibe.  He swears that nothing happened but the evidence is mounting against him.  The final lyrics of the song are a bitter plea that they should remain together, condemned as they are.  

The ten minute juggernaut that is “Inmates” is the best song on the entire album.  Kasher abdicates singing duties to Jiha Lee and Jenny Lewis, the latter from the band Rilo Kiley at the time of recording, as he picks a gentle melody out.  Jiha sings gently of our former partner’s heartbreaking upbringing but doesn’t excuse anything, asking him simple questions such as “when you loved me, did you really love me?”, “when you thought you’d hurt me, did you think you’d hurt me?” and “when you said you needed me, did you really need me?” before answering them to show she knows who he is and it’s terrible.  The song is haunting in its beauty and if you listen to no other tracks, this should be the one you look up. Hell, here it is.

The next two songs are the man’s response, “Needy” and “A New Friend” show him bitterly calling out his ex but even his protestations sound hollow.  The songs though are excellent exit music for the album, “Needy” have a sample breakdown that helps it stand out amongst the others while “A New Friend” is Kasher writing in his element.  Telling the ex that though he knows she’s moved on, she can always come back to him and they can do something stupid.  

The final song “Two Years This Month” features a musical flashback before Kasher sings acapella that it’s been two years since they last spoke.  No more bitterness, no more arguments just acceptance.  

This album proves that if Taylor Swift is the queen of the breakup song, Kasher is the outlaw king in her shadow.  Roaming the countryside, never receiving the glory he deserves and in need of a throne of his own.  If the two of them ever collaborated it would create the most beautiful and bitter out-of-love songs that the world has ever seen.  

This album comes highly recommended.  It first came out in August 2004 and has been in constant rotation in my life since then.  Even now I listen to it and still hear things that I missed before and the songs never get old.  

It’s hard to find an album that feels as complete yet slim as this one does.  There’s no excess to it, it’s sleek without being pretentious and it’s heartfelt above all else.  Kasher has always been a solid songwriter but here is where he’s truly flexing his muscles.  

As this album reaches the age to legally drive, it still tells stories that deserve to be heard.  That can help the heartbroken through painful times.  So, do yourself a favor and give it a listen.