Curses: No Room for Laughs Here

If Easy Listening lampoons a generation lulled into religious complacency, Curses sharply turns the lens to something heavier: the generational toll of abandonment. The song’s tone is somber, stripped of irony, and rich with lament. It opens with a solemn vow, “Sworn to love and cherish always”, only to show how tragically often that vow is broken. This track walks us through the spiritual and emotional fallout left in the wake of desertion, especially within families.

Musically restrained and lyrically precise, Curses avoids sermonizing. Instead, it gives voice to those left behind: children watching their fathers walk out, mothers carrying burdens they didn’t choose, and men buckling under the weight of expectations they were never prepared to shoulder. Taylor doesn't condemn as much as he mourns. The line “few are left standing” isn’t judgmental. It’s grief-stricken. The song is a cry for faithfulness in a culture where promises are often broken.

At the heart of Curses is a bold, biblical claim:

“Never have I seen the righteous forsaken.”

Taken from Psalm 37, this refrain stands as a counterweight to the devastation. It’s not an empty platitude; it’s a stubborn hope. The world may be filled with fatherlessness, fractured homes, and generational pain, but the promise remains. God does not forsake His people. Even in the flood lands, even in the fallout, there is a faithfulness deeper than failure.

Taylor's message isn’t just personal. It’s prophetic. He calls out not only the individual men who desert their families, but the broader cultural patterns that make such desertion common. In the line “Will you, my man, buckle under these curses?” there is both a challenge and an invitation: Will you be the one who breaks the cycle? Will you stay?

In the sweep of Squint, Curses deepens the emotional weight of the album. After earlier songs that mocked pretension, undermined false security, and called out hypocrisy, this track asks us to take stock of the wreckage and decide whether we will add to it or begin to mend it.

The next track, Sock Heaven, will return to some of the album’s more imaginative stylings. But the ache of Curses lingers. It reminds us that behind cultural critique lie real people, real stories, and the enduring consequences of broken promises.

This post is part of my series walking through Steve Taylor’s album “Squint.” An album that still speaks to the absurdities of our culture contrasted by the grace being offered us.