I love Cursive. And The Good Life. And Tim Kasher’s solo stuff. Do I know why he needs a bunch different monikers that aren’t thaaaat different from each other? No. Does it really matter? Also no. And when Cursive came back to Eugene’s WOW Hall after a decade away, the fans just missed Tim. They would leave fully satisfied.
The fans were treated to a night of contrasting vibes that somehow fit together better than they should have. Opening the show was The Appleseed Cast’s Chris Crisci, performing eight or so jams from his solo moniker, Old Canes. Armed with nothing more than an Alvarez Yairi acoustic guitar (nice) and a soft, measured presence, Crisci set the tone with a 25-minute set that was subdued, intimate, and quietly compelling. Honestly, it felt more like something you’d stumble into at a candle-lit coffee shop than an opener for Cursive, but the crowd gave him their full attention and appreciation. Odd choice? Maybe. Bad choice? Not at all.
After Crisci’s set, I found myself chatting with a Cursive superfan named Ken, who was buzzing with excitement for what was about to come. He reminisced about past shows, and when I mentioned that I hadn’t seen Cursive since 2012 at the Glass House in Pomona, his eyes lit up. Even more so when he found out I once reviewed I Am Gemini for Vice Magazine — a rare assignment where my editor didn’t inexplicably add the word “penis” into my copy. (I still wonder why she kept doing that.) Ken’s enthusiasm was infectious, and it mirrored the rest of the room: this was a crowd ready for catharsis.
And catharsis is exactly what Tim Kasher and company delivered. From the moment they stormed the stage and launched straight into “What the Fuck,” the WOW Hall was transformed. No warm-up, no easing into the set — just immediate chaos and release. Without missing a beat, they barreled through “Shallow Means, Deep Ends” and “Sierra,” whipping the crowd into a frenzy before pausing for Kasher’s trademark wry crowd work.
What struck me most was the sustained energy. Over the course of 17 songs, the sextet never let up. Every note, every scream, every frantic riff felt sharp and intentional, like a band not just revisiting its catalog (and the set list went back across decades) but fully inhabiting it. The crowd responded in kind, losing their collective minds at the first chord and never letting up until the last. It was the kind of show where sweat, emotional release, and nostalgia all blurred into one fevered communal experience.
Cursive has always thrived on that mix of precision and chaos, and last night was no exception. Kasher’s vocals cut through with raw emotion, the dual guitars, coupled with an electric cello, clashed and harmonized in equal measure, and the rhythm section (the drummer fucking ruled) kept the whole thing both grounded and explosive. At times it felt less like a performance and more like a storm that Eugene’s chillest concert venue somehow managed to contain.
Speaking of WOW Hall, it deserves its own shoutout. The historic venue remains one of the most welcoming places to see live music, staffed by some of the kindest, most easygoing folks you’ll encounter at a show. It’s one thing to book a band like Cursive, but it’s another to make the entire experience — from doors to encore — feel like you’re being hosted by friends. The lady at the snack bar is especially rad.
By the time the band wrapped, the walls of WOW Hall were practically sweating along with the audience. For me, it was a return after more than a decade away from seeing Cursive live, and they proved they’ve lost none of their fire. If anything, they’ve honed it. And while Crisci’s acoustic set may have seemed like an odd appetizer for such a raucous main course, the night as a whole reminded me why live music still feels so necessary: it can be both delicate and devastating, intimate and explosive, all in the span of a few hours.