After their Crank! Records debut Such Blinding Stars for Starving Eyes, Omaha natives Cursive joined up with the then-burgeoning Omaha record label Saddle Creek. In a few years time, Saddle Creek would become a staple of the underground emo-ish scene, enlisting such bands as Rilo Kiley, The Faint, and Bright Eyes to their roster.

Now, when people talk about Saddle Creek, Cursive is always one of the first bands mentioned. But on their second album, released just five years after the founding of the label, Cursive was still building their legend alongside their new label. And while it might not be remembered as one of their best works, The Storms of Early Summer: Semantics of Song is an important chapter in their mythology.

While this record doesn’t quite yet show the Cursive that would create some of emo’s best concept albums, it’s a notable mile marker in between Such Blinding Stars and the forthcoming Domestica. Where their debut swung between the emo/post hardcore/indie rock/whatever scene’s poles, with Mineral’s delicate melodicism on one end and Drive Like Jehu’s angular math rock fury on the other, The Storms of Early Summer is much more even. There’s still plenty of dynamic shifts, but both the quiet and loud moments sound less like other bands and more like Cursive. 

Perhaps the biggest factor in sounding more like themselves is the growing confidence of Tim Kasher as a songwriter and vocalist. Throughout this disc, you can feel him growing into the massive form that he would later come to inhabit in the scene. His characteristic meta-references and theatric delivery aren’t just hinted at on this disc: they’re major characteristics. On “Proposals” he sings, “you see me on some stage / and you believe that’s really me over there / there’s a chance it’s not really me / maybe we’re not ourselves anymore.” There are moments in “A Little Song and Dance” where his delivery turns to a desperate, rapid-fire half-sung monologue, trying to fit syllables into rhythmic meters that don’t have enough room for them. At times, he feels more like he’s delivering a fiery sermon than singing for a rock band—and not just because of the image he paints in the marching “Semantics of Sermon.” But unlike a preacher, his passion isn’t paired with fervent faith or devotion. He makes no dramatic declarations of truth, instead crying out to the cosmos for some sort of answer like a man adrift.

Overall, The Storms of Summer is neither as immediate as its predecessor nor as rich as the albums that follow. That isn’t to say it isn’t a fine entry in the Cursive catalogue—chronologically, it’s the first Cursive record that really feels like Crusive. But, it probably won’t be the first record I put on when I’m in the mood to listen to Kasher & Co.