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Review - The Hold Steady - Separatiom Sunday
SEPARATION SUNDAY The Hold Steady French Kiss/Rogue Records
“She had the place to herself, she had a couple o’ hundred bucks, and he had nothing but the number.”
Remember those desperate teenage times of self-discovery? Some may rather not. Some may prefer to glorify their past. Minneapolis by way of New York City group the Hold Steady, on their second album, tell it like it really was. Of course there were good times, then there were the bad, and very bad times – all in all these were not halcyon days. “Do you want me to tell it like it was boy meets girl and the rest is history?”
Separation Sunday follows the misguided efforts of a pack of misfits, hoodrats and punks as they attempt to make something of their lives. Narrator Craig Finn uniquely growls and mutters a set of tales based on real life – even if they may be other people’s real lives – with a conviction often lacking in modern rock.
With bands like the Strokes admitting to having “nothing to say”, rock ‘n’ roll has a nasty habit of saying little more than clichés and empty references. One could say it’s a time for heroes. And while the Hold Steady doesn’t have the obvious hooks and image to be the poster-boys for literary-rock, they are, at the very least, something to believe in.
“She said there’s gonna be a time when I’ll have to go with whoever’s gonna get me the highest.”
Finn’s Catholic upbringing provides the basis for the album’s themes of liberation, redemption, crucifixion, salvation and resurrection. As much a literary piece as it is musical, each song reveals another remarkably detailed chapter of growth and despair.
Getting out of suburbia. Becoming part of the scene. Getting caught up in complicated matters. Getting out. And all the debauchery in between.
And how would you soundtrack these tumultuous events? Think back to the old mix-tapes you kept in your first car. Rock. It would be easy to label the Hold Steady as classic rock enthusiasts, if only the song structures weren’t so loose. Instead the band come across as an extremely competent bar band – just as confident unleashing stored-up punk energy (‘Cattle and the Creeping Things’) as taking a deep breath and knocking out a teary-eyed lament (‘Don’t Let Me Explode’, ‘Crucifixion Cruise’). The intimacy of the bar band set-up is enhanced by Finn’s technique of sing-talking. You talking to me, man?
“She said I ain’t gonna do anything sexual with you. I’m kinda saving myself for the scene.”
Look in the mirror, pull your toughest face and pretend you’re not part of some wild scene mapped out by Separation Sunday. Emphasis on lines like “she’s been calling me again”, “damn right you’ll rise again”, “seemed like an easy place to score” and “there’s strings attached to every single lover” represent universal themes of everyday existence. In other words, it would not seem unusual to encounter a newly rewarded P-plater yelling the words out the window on that first solo drive. Oh, to be 17 again.
Carl Dixon
Submitted by opuseditor on Wed, 2006-03-08 06:36.
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