1,267 THE HOLD STEADY, Bristol Rough Trade Records, Thursday 9th March 2023

 

I’d been a pre-pandemic regular for The Hold Steady’s recent run of London Weekenders, joining the worshipping throng at the Electric Ballroom in the Marches of 2018 (gig 1,076), 2019 (gig 1,125) and 2020 (gig 1,178) to celebrate the finest raw, ragged rock’n’roll band of the 21^st century. However, their 2023 post-lockdown reactivation of said regular jaunt, from Brooklyn via Minneapolis to the UK, had somehow escaped my notice, and by the time I realised, I’d already booked a trio of big-ticket gigs for this month (see future blog posts for those!). I’d therefore resigned myself to missing out on Craig Finn and his ragged rabble’s “live” shenanigans this year, but then this cropped up; a midweek lunchtime “live and signing” sesh, promoting hopefully-better-than-the-last-two new CD “The Price Of Progress”, at Bristol’s splendid Rough Trade! Woah! I snapped tix up immediately, buoyed at the prospect of seeing THS at such close quarters…

 My boss very kindly allowed me to shift my working patterns, so after an early work start, I logged off and hit the road mid-morning for a drizzly drive down. Nosed around in the Rough Trade racks on my early arrival, getting a tap on the shoulder from gig buddy Stuart, who’d given this one a late call and took the train down! We got our wristbands in short order, and grabbed spots down the front, house right, as the place filled up (by no means a sell-out, this, however, the lunchtime scheduling possibly mitigating against that?). The band took the stage prompt at 1 p.m., vocalist Craig Finn promising something, “a little different for the lunchtime crowd!” Sure enough, oldie “Multitude Of Casualties” was all understated melancholy, heralding not only a set selection considerably off their usual beaten track, but also a performance of urbane, relaxed late-night bar-room restraint, far removed from the usual seething rock beast this band can be, but instead demonstrating style and musicianship. Having said that, by the song’s denouement, Finn was all expansive hand gestures and twitchy feet – he just can’t help himself! 

This relaxed occasion also gave Finn the opportunity for voluble and loquacious explanations as to the songs’ geneses; thus, we discovered the sway-along newie “Grand Junction” was written about a turbulent couple, whilst stranded in said town, the slow-burn, tears-in-beers ballad “Distortions Of Faith” concerned a manager/ performer married couple, and macabre set closer “Oaks” was about youthful trips to the local car wash to buy LSD! Finn also informed us that a previous trip to Bristol had resulted in him, “behaving like an asshole,” and bursting a blood vessel in his eye! Yikes!

 First album deep cut “Sketchy Metal” featured an excellent undulating riff outro from guitarist Tad Kubler, making recourse to his impressive array of effects pedals directly in front of me, and rather oddly reminding me of Ultravox!’s “Young Savage” riff! “Death Of The Punchline” was comfortably my set highlight, a roaring rocker which could have walked off “Stay Positive”, but which apparently was recorded for the new album then left off it! You contrary bunch, you…! The aforementioned “Oaks” featured a lengthy outro and again some splendid fretwork from Tad Kubler, rounding off another excellent set from The Hold Steady, albeit somewhat different than usual, demonstrating a different dimension to their music-making.

 

(above pic from The Hold Steady's own FB site. Well, I AM in it...)

Tad kindly handed me his and drummer Bobby Drake’s shared list, and we joined the rapidly-moving queue for a meet and greet with a band I’d been dying to shake hands with and say thanks to, since that heady first discovery of “Boys And Girls In America” in 2007. However, this didn’t turn out as expected… Despite the boys signing a poster (the album not being ready for release yet…) and copies of 2 earlier set-lists from my physical Gig Book 13 (Tad and Bobby in particular showing quite an interest in my journals, asking me questions about both that and my XTC shirt) we were unceremoniously hurried along by an overzealous and officious bloke (minder/ roadie? Probably… RT employee? Bloody hope not!) who shouted, “that’s excessive!” at me when I simply answered the boys’ questions about my blog by handing over my blog card, and refused any suggestions for a photo with the band. Sure, I get you’ve got a job to do, and another in-store in Nottingham that evening, but no need to be so bloody rude about it, and it totally spoiled what should have been a special moment for me. Thanks a fucking bunch pal. 

(The best I could get in the circumstances. Thank you Stuart!)

No time to argue though, as I was “on the clock” so I calmed myself down, and Stu and I hit the road, home about 3-ish and back to work! Despite the jarring ending, this was still a fine way to spend a lunchtime in good musical company on and off stage. Looking forward to that new album now…!

1,178 THE HOLD STEADY, Martha, London Camden Electric Ballroom, Saturday 7th March 2020

A third annual visit to London to partake in a segment of The Hold Steady's London Weekender; but surprisingly this was one I wasn't anticipating with as much frenzied relish and the previous two... The Hold Steady, Minneapolis' rock'n'roll ruffians, inheritors to a swaggering lineage running from the likes of The Rolling Stones and early Springsteen, through The Replacements and Husker Du, all the way to the Gaslight Anthem, Menzingers and such blue-collar contemporaries, had for at least the last decade also been clear owners of the title of Greatest Rock'n’Roll Band on Planet Earth, so far as I’ve been concerned. However, a performance last time out which was initially flat, taking time to soar to usual heights, was followed with a very patchy album in 2019's "Thrashing Through The Passion", perhaps their poorest effort to date and one which honestly read like a collection of outtakes and half-formed ideas, rather than a flowing, coherent whole. Heavy is the (collective) head that wears the crown, indeed... in fact, for me THS had consequently all but ceded their title to the more lustrous and magical brilliance of Nada Surf (next Thursday's hosts at this very venue, ironically enough). So, Mr. Finn and co., what'cha gonna do (brothers) to turn the tide around, and restore my faith in The Hold Steady?

An intriguing aside to this one was the addition of Durham's C86-inflected spritely punkers Martha as support, and an announced 7 pm stage time for them saw me, suitably kitted up in shorts, kneestraps and contact lenses - it is the Hold Steady, after all, so I'm still likely to utterly lose my shit - setting off just after 3.30! Parked at Osterley and tubed in, hitting the venue for an early 6.20, well in time to take a place at the front, chat with some fellow early-comers (one of whom complimented my Nada Surf t-shirt and told me about his having once invited them to stay at his Tennessee ranch after a local gig!), and be ready for Martha's early entrance at 5 to 7. On it from the off with the racy "Wrestlemania" and the rolling, repetitive hook of "Ping", the sound was tough and full, and this ruffian band of gender warriors did it full justice. An early "Goldman's Detective Agency", my favourite Martha track, got me bopping and singing along to their effervescent bouncy guitar pop, vocal chores as usual being swapped between all 4 band members, although guitarist JC took most leads. A galloping "Horny", again featuring an insistent repetitive hook, was the penultimate highlight, drummer Nathan pronouncing, "it's an honour to support The Hold Steady; we first saw them in 2007, so it's taken this long to get here!" Well, it was worth the wait; Martha rose to the occasion good and proper, and fucking nailed this set!

Gambled on a loo break, somehow managing to squirm back through this sell-out and anticipatory crowd to my spot about 3 rows back. Dead on 8, the intro music of Boz Scaggs "Lido Shuffle" started up, eliciting some warm-up "woah-ohs" from the crowd, also reciprocated by the band and particularly vocalist Craig Finn as they took the stage. And from note one of brilliant - and brilliantly chosen - opener "Stuck Between Stations”, all my doubts fell away like scales from my eyes, disappearing as fast as the air from my lungs in the sudden yet good-natured crush. A phenomenal starter, chased in shortly after by a huge singalong for "You Can Make Him Like You". These boys know how to start a gig, no messin'...

This was again one of those rare nights when the join between band and audience was so blurred as to be imperceptible. The rock, well, rocked, with a swagger and a strut, never totally note-perfect but played with so much passion and conviction that that mattered not. And Craig Finn was everywhere... quickly as red-faced and sweaty as the rest of us (I was pretty much in full Cleo mode by the third number!), dashing hither and thither like a demented hamster, repeating vocal lines off mic with the most beaming of grins, a picture of euphoria, this little rotund, slightly receding man somehow managed to reflect the distilled essence of decades of rock'n'roll. "We went to the Clash exhibit today; I didn't know what [the Clash's lyrical references] meant, I just knew they were important..."

In all honesty, Craig's usually frequent stream-of-consciousness banter was largely absent tonight as they concentrated on the rock, the exclamation, "Oh shit, it's "Party Pit"!" being a notable exception prior to a soaring singalong rendition. In fact much of the set was air-punching, terrace-chant roof-raising singalong moshpit catnip tonight, and I stayed in throughout, immersed fully in the experience. "Sequestered In Memphis" was a swaggering delight; a plaintive "Lord, I'm Discouraged" provided a necessary mid-set breather as well as a guitar riff highlight from Tad Kubler, eliciting roars from the crowd and applause from his singer; and the frantic punk rock of "Constructive Summer" nearly saw me subsumed by the pit. "Hoodrat Friend" saw a mid-song diatribe from Craig complimenting his band and the occasion, the subsequent confetti throw as the final chorus erupted reflecting the celebratory mood, and "Resurrection" rounded out a stunning 1 1/2 hour set as swift as any of late. Encores took this to 2 hours, the usual euphoric "Killer Parties" seeing Craig lead the crowd in the inevitable chant of, “There! Is! So much Joy!!! In what we do!" And once again they proved it, sweeping away my pre-gig concerns as if they never existed.

An easy list from a friendly roadie then quick merch-stand chat with Martha's JC, and I was off, sweaty as hell and feeling like a cod - totally battered! A couple of quick tube arrivals promised a quick return to the car; however I was held for 20 minutes at Northfields - 2 stops away! - so back to the car for 11.15 and home after the painful 50mph limit on the M4 for a weary and hungry 12.45, kebab in tow. Knackered but euphoric; and I can safely say that following that stellar performance, the Hold Steady crown has been restored to its full gleaming lustre... as they say, tonight at least I was a skeptic at first but these miracles work! 

1,125 THE HOLD STEADY, Crewel Intentions, London Camden Electric Ballroom, Friday 8 March 2019

“Let this be our annual reminder...", or, how a one-off becomes deja vu, then a tradition... Minneapolis’ finest, The Hold Steady, seemed to enjoy last March's 3-night London stand (itself a continuation of their celebratory round-tripper honouring the 10th Anniversary of their breakthrough album "Boys And Girls In America") so much, they announced plans to do it all over again! And so, inevitably, did I... Having asserted, probably since "Boys And Girls..." first rampaged its' way into my consciousness with its blend of deliciously wordy, ragged and raw-boned US alt-popcore, encapsulating so much of what I love about this rock malarkey, that this lot are indubitably The Greatest Rock'n'Roll Band on Planet Earth, I was determined to keep this Killer Party going as well, booking tix (again) for the Friday night Leccy Ballroom first night. 

So, I left early from work oop the Smoke, hitting traffic near Windsor then the aftermath of a shunt shortly afterwards, as the traffic police held us for 15 minutes to clear the debris. However, after a change stop at Heston (lenses, shorts and kneestraps - all personal necessities after last year!), further access into London was startlingly easy and I parked up usual spot, usual time, no problem. Another delay, though, being held on the Underground at Edgware Road, saw me hitting the venue just after 20 past 7 to find this was a (very) early one! After the necessary loo stop, then, support Crewel Intentions (apparently former Palma Violets mainman Chilli Jesson's new Spaghetti Western direction) were but a low and quickly disappearing rumble in the distance. 

Grabbed a spot near the front and chatted with a fellow punter (hey Ian!) before the lights dimmed and the "Pink Panther" theme tune crept surreptitiously in, heralding the entrance of The Hold Steady at an unfeasibly early 7.50. "We're The Hold Steady, we're going to build something this weekend!" announced vocalist Craig Finn to cheers, the band thereby bursting into the strident Husker Du-popcore lite of "Constructive Summer". And we were away... or so I thought… Craig Finn was his usual ebullient, rabble-rousing self, repeating lines off-mic as usual with a huge stupid grin never far from his features; the band were in fine, rocking fettle, swaggering and strutting, and a moshpit was responding in kind. However, that fabled and almost mystical connection between band and audience, the elusive X Factor that elevates a Hold Steady gig to the ranks of the Very Special Indeed, seemed oddly absent early doors. Don't get me wrong, even a routine Hold Steady gig knocks most gigs into a cocked hat and I was still enjoying myself; it just seemed a little... erm, flat... For them, anyway... Despite highlights such as a rollicking "Sequestered In Memphis", the tumbling chaos of "Yeah Sapphire" and the backlit spotlight of "On With The Business", there may have otherwise been maybe too many mid-paced numbers for me, and I often found myself hoping for a real moshpit-kicking banger such as "Frighten You" or "Adderall", both sadly absent from tonight’s set. 

One hour in, though, it all changed... announcing it as a song about love, hope and other myriad things, Finn counted in Tad Kubler's riff into "Stuck Between Stations", and the place erupted. Like, really fucking Vesuvius-style erupted... One huge explosion of rock'n'roll joy and rapture, the moshpit expanding exponentially, sweeping me along in its wake. The rest of the set was thereafter one huge communal event, the type where you sweatily hug complete strangers and scream lyrics in their faces; a brilliant "Hoodrat Friend" saw Finn proclaim God gave him permission for a pre-Lent "pre-tox"(!), "Massive Nights" and "Southtown Girls" were huge, euphoric communal singalongs, and "Slapped Actresses" a swaggering set closer. 

Thankfully, the encores continued this all-inclusive vibe, with the blaring riff of "The Swish", the roaring chorus of "Stay Positive" and a magnificent final "Killer Parties", introduced by Finn announcing that this will indeed become a tradition ("we'll do this again next year! And the year after...!"), then further tapping into the spirit of the night by asking the audience to join in with his usual proclamation that, "There is so much joy in what we do up here!" And tonight that was reflected down here as well... eventually, at least!

 

Collected my thoughts, chatted with a few punters inside and out (including my moshpit friend from last year's gig!), then a swift drive home pitched me back into the 'don just after midnight. Nice work! A bit of settling in for a long weekend initially, maybe, but when they did hit their stride it was the same old Hold Steady. That being, as euphoric, essential and brilliant as rock'n'roll gets... I've already set my reminder for THS 2020!

1,076 THE HOLD STEADY, Scott Hutchison, London Camden Electria Ballroom, Friday 9th March 2018

The Hold Steady, a band I glibly yet (to my mind) totally accurately describe as The Greatest Rock’n’Roll Band On The Planet, and featuring in vocalist Craig Finn a complete onstage Force of Nature wrapped up in the slight bespectacled frame of a middle-aged geography teacher, celebrated the 10^th anniversary of their breakthrough album “Boys And Girls In America” last year with a series of party gigs around their native USA. Like all killer parties, however, this one was bound to spill over beyond its’ scheduled time, so 2018 saw them return to these shores to continue that celebration, with a couple of London shows. No fucking chance was I missing that, so I was “on it” for the tickets as soon as they went on sale, sadly blowing out of my preferred Saturday slot before they sold out (or so I thought), but happily snagging one for the Friday opener. Good thing too as it turned out, as the usual SLF “Mad March” date was announced for the Saturday, completing a “3-gigs-in-3-days” mad weekend… but I digress…

Made arrangements to leave work early and hit a sodden M4 at 4pm for a difficult drive up the Smoke, inching along painfully from the Chiswick flyover and parking up, somewhat frazzled, at 7 in the Bush. Tubed it over to the Electric Ballroom and took a spot, stage left near the front, wandering in as the PA was playing “Life Begins At The Hop” by XTC! Sang along to that and subsequent XTC classics before Scott Hutchison took the stage at 8 to a cheer and a remark of, “well, this is a bit exciting…” Hutchison, main-man of Scots’ fuzzy psych-folk backwoodsmen and Grandaddy acolytes Frightened Rabbit, a band whose 2013 “Pedestrian Verse” album I’d enjoyed, but whose accompanying gig (no. 895) and subsequent follow-up, 2016’s “Painting Of A Panic Attack” I’d found a bit, well, pedestrian, set about proving me wrong with a fine and well-chosen set of FR moments; “The Modern Leper” was a morose and angst-ridden gallop-fest, followed by a pacy, slightly-delic “Old Old Fashioned”. Also entertaining was his dealing with a request with, “I don’t know if that works acoustically,” then when said heckler replied in the affirmative, responding with, “it works for you, maybe…!” “I Wish I Was Sober” was a plaintive, mournful elegy, and a rousing “Woodpile” and foot-stomping “Loneliness And The Scream”, the crowd woah-oh-ing along to the dramatic and building denouement, were fine punctuations on an unexpectedly splendid and well-received set. Need to re-appraise some of that Frightened Rabbit stuff, obviously…

The place got proper old-school rammed as XTC again filled the time, before the lights dimmed at 9 and the “Pink Panther” theme started up, The Hold Steady sauntering onstage to a rapturous, lengthy and building ovation. Last to take the stage was Finn, already beaming from ear to ear, taking a moment to bask in the adulation before announcing, “we’re going to have a good time tonight!” as Tad Kubler hit the opening notes to “Stuck Between Stations.” From that opening riff, the place went bat-shit mental (myself included), audience responding as one, an eruption of sheer effervescent joy and immersion in the power of rock’n’roll, all-encompassing and all-inclusive. All, that is, except for one dickhead…

The mosh was a violently jostling yet joyful and good-natured body, arms aloft, a multitude of singing and hugging total strangers, yet this one bloke, on the barriers stage right, treated anyone who dared bash into him as if it was a personal assault, viciously elbowing back with indignant fury etched across his face. On more than one occasion he squared up to me – I just beckoned behind me and yelled, “look at that, mate, what can I do about that??” – so I sought a bit of space from this gig virgin moron. He later squared up to another fellow mosher – a much heftier bloke than myself (if you’re reading this mate, I mean that in the nicest way!) – at which point a bouncer intervened. Shame, I’d have liked to have seen him try to take on my mosh companion. Would have been one a punch fight there, methinks…

Let this not detract from the onstage fayre, however; from note one, The Hold Steady were utterly magnificent tonight, the distilled essence of rock’n’roll, thrilling and transcendent. I dunno, I’ve been doing this gig malarkey for 38 years now, but I can probably count on the fingers of one hand those very special “live” bands where the distinction between performer and audience is so blurred you can’t see the join, where everyone comes together in a celebratory mass, giving themselves (ourselves) over to the moment. “This 6-piece line-up [including original and returning member, keyboardist Franz Nicolai] is the best live line up [of The Hold Steady],” announced an all-action Finn, and after a huge singalong “Sequestered In Memphis” and rampant “Same Kooks”, nobody was arguing!

After a few numbers, however, it dawned on me a) that I’m 52 and owner of 2 dodgy knees, and b) how ill-prepared I was for this one. Knowing I, like 99% of tonight’s attendees, was going to completely lose my shit to The Hold Steady, I should really have donned contact lenses, kneestraps; hell, even shorts (!). So I took a mid-set rest before working my way over to the other side of the crowd, away from barrier moron. “Are you guys having as much fun as I am?” asked an elated Finn before “First Night”, which featured a keyboard vignette from Nicolai; then an utterly incendiary “Constructive Summer” saw me back in the pit, bouncing off my fellow moshers and rejoicing in the moment. A new number, “Eureka” (“about Eureka, California – it’s beautiful but really sketchy!” according to Finn) promised well for the next album, and “I Hope This Whole Thing Didn’t Frighten You” was immense, featuring a ball-crushingly massive middle 8. “Your Little Hoodrat Friend” featured a typically tangential soliloquy from Finn on the history of the Hold Steady before its usual soaring denouement, and the soulful confessional of “How A Resurrection Really Feels” saw everyone take a much needed breather at the end of an utterly rampant set.

“I usually give up drink for Lent,” announced Finn upon returning for the encore, gleefully clutching a plastic cocktail cup, “but God granted me a European exemption!” “Citrus” was lovely, plaintive and singalong, before a punked-up “Adderall” and roof-raising “Stay Positive” followed, the crowd’s “whoa-oh-oh’s shaking this venerable old venue’s foundations. Then, “its’ come to the part of the evening that I only have one more thing to say…” Finn built the tension as the band eased into the framework of “Killer Parties” before releasing it with, “… there is SO MUCH JOY!!! in what we do!” to a huge ovation. “Killer Parties” took us to an astonishing 2 hours that simply raced by, Finn leaving us with the message, “we, you, you and you, we ALL are The Hold Steady…!”

Elated, I grabbed a list, chatted with fellow punters about what we’d just witnessed – hell, what we’d just been part of – before collecting my thoughts and what little remaining energy I could muster, thence disappearing into the London night, car by midnight, home at a weary 1.30. It’s not just hyperbole on my part, for me The Hold Steady are indeed The Greatest Rock’n’Roll Band On The Planet, and tonight they emphatically underlined it again. Long may this Killer Party continue!

928 THE HOLD STEADY, THE SO SO GLOS, Birmingham O2 Academy 2, Monday 13 October 2014

Hold Steady set-list signed by the band at their PA at Bristol Rough Trade Records on Thursday 9th March 2023!

Off once again to see The Hold Steady, possibly my favourite band over the last 7 or 8 years and for me the band that, above all others, currently encapsulates my love for this many-splendored thing called rock’n’roll. It’s a lengthy jaunt up to B’rum tonight, as their Bristol gig next week in support of tremendous new album “Teeth Dreams”, likely my favourite of 2014, coincides with our family break in Butlins! Still, after the form they displayed at their Bush Hall gig back in May, I’d go to the ends of the Earth to see them, so Birmingham is just a quick drive up the road in comparison! If further incentive be needed (hah!), support is provided by The So So Glos, probably my favourite new band discovery of this year, a raucous, terrace chant anthemic punk rock rabble also known for instigating the “Shea Stadium” venue and recording space regularly haunted by the likes of the Mighty Titus Andronicus.

 

A real potential double whammy in prospect, so nothing’s standing in the way of this one for me! I duly drove into work and set off directly at my Monday afternoon 3.30 finishing time (usually to fetch the kids but tonight to fetch the rock!), purposefully hitting a sodden road oop North, and arriving at the venue after a wet old journey 20 minutes before doors. A filthy night, this; even the touts stayed in their cars and shouted, “got any spare? Buy or sell,” at passers-by! I was second in at just after 7 (the venue not being prepared to throw us damp early-comers a bone and open up early), hitting this upstairs venue resembling the Oxford Zodiac room in both size and orientation, thence sitting and watching the place slowly fill up.

 

A poor turnout early doors – it was barely 1/3 full by 8, so I got a spot on the barriers, stage left, quite easily for the So So Glos’ entrance. This young Brooklyn 4-piece took the stage, and the stage stayed well and truly took! Storming into the strident, ballsy opener “Son Of An American”, a swaggering statement of intent, they were dynamic, kinetic, intense and committed from the outset, playing their powerful, upbeat punk rock with a raucous, carefree attitude. Surprisingly more punchy, powerful and together “live” in comparison to their nevertheless excellent album “Blowout”, which often feels like Black Flag’s seminal “TV Party” times 10 and consequently on the verge of collapse at any moment, they nonetheless surfed constantly on the ragged edge, delivering a thrilling set. “This song’s about Xanax, America’s legal drug dealers!” announced wide-eyed vocalist Alex for third number, the breathless “Xanax”. That’s punk attitude for you! “Wrecking Ball” featured some in-your-face rap call-and-response vocals and a crushing terrace chant hook, whilst “Speakeasy” recalled early Hot Hot Heat with its’ yelping vocals and bass-powered rhythm. However the penultimate number “Everything Revival” was the highlight; unplanned but shouted for by (and subsequently dedicated to!) me, this was utterly magnificent, a joyous punk rock romp with a soaring singalong hook, which I shouted raucously from my front row spot. Great stuff!

 

Follow that, gents! The place finally filled up but was by no means full, as I kept my barrier spot and chatted with some fellow front row punters, before The Velvet Underground’s “We’re Gonna Have A Real Good Time Together” heralded the entrance of The Hold Steady, just after 9. “Like the man said, we’re gonna have a good time together!” announced effusive frontman Craig Finn as the band raced headlong into the careering, Ramones-like opener “Ask Her For Adderall”. And we were away on another Hold Steady thrill ride, Finn as ever everywhere, exhorting the crowd, repeating lines off-mic, and generally revelling in the sheer unalloyed delight at being the singer in a rock’n’roll band. “I Hope This Whole Thing Didn’t Frighten You” and the brilliant swaggering blues of “Sequestered In Memphis” were similar early highlights, Finn again sarcastically emphasising the line, “I went there on business..”

 

“Truth is a squirrelly concept in rock and roll… one thing is true, you CAN make him like you!” announced Finn by introduction to that number; indeed the frontman was on verbal overload tonight, his endless yet entertaining between-song banter matching the articulate verbiage overload of his lyrics. One such soliloquy started with, “I think we’re a pretty good bar band,” and ended with a headlong tumble into the roaring “Constructive Summer”, whilst the next kicked off with, “this is important, so humour me,” went off on a tangent into a debate on the development of the Internet (!), finally returning with, “my point being… there are SO many ways you could be spending your Monday night, yet you’re all here!”

 

The subsequent “Spinners” (“about going out”) was the set highlight, ebullient, all inclusive and joyfully rendered by the enthusiastic Finn and a band totally on top of their game. Occasionally muddy sound couldn’t spoil the fun tonight, as I again abandoned myself to the moment and bounced along throughout, singing myself hoarse and ignoring the inevitable sore knees the next day. Some light and shade too – “Ambassador” diffused the mood before Tad Kubler delivered the plangent opening riff to the inevitable “Stuck Between Stations”. A Motown-esque “What A Resurrection Feels Like” segued into a singalong “Walk On By”, to close a breathless set.

 

We got another soliloquy from Finn, a man after my own heart, who also believes in cutting a short story long, during the encores, then a ragged, none-more appropriate “Stay Positive” ended a brilliant 1 hour 40 performance. Gathered my thoughts, chatted and hung awhile with the Merch stand-bound So So Glos, then hit an utterly awash A38 out of Birmingham and a less sodden M5 home, catching my breath. Tonight The Hold Steady were again utterly imperious, and cemented their reputation as, for me, the finest purveyors of rock music right now. But spare a thought for The So So Glos; tonight 4 Brooklyn upstarts went toe to toe with the best band on Planet Earth and emerged with flying colours. So as I said, a real double whammy!

 

914 THE HOLD STEADY, Cheerleader, London Shepherd's Bush Bush Hall, Monday 5th May 2014

Hold Steady set-list signed by the band at their PA at Bristol Rough Trade Records on Thursday 9th March 2023!

“The Kings have returned to reclaim their throne” was how I proclaimed the return of The Hold Steady with their new album “Teeth Dreams” earlier this year; after an uncharacteristic 3 year absence, Minneapolis’ finest and consistently my favourite rock’n’roll band since I first heard the heady rush of their breakthrough album “Boys And Girls In America” back in 2007, are back – and with a vengeance, the lion finding its’ teeth again after a slightly disappointing effort last time out in “Heaven Is Whenever” with a bleeding-raw slab of prime rock’n’roll, a real stunner to match that last album’s 2 predecessors. Coinciding with the record, a short sojourn of small venues was announced, and it seemed I’d not been the only one bemoaning their absence as it pretty much sold out immediately! I jumped on the website when they went on sale, but my efforts were met with “not available… not available… sold out!” In frustration, I phoned the venue, who after some forlorn pleading, kindly put me on a “pay on the door” reserve list. So I was in!

So, after a lovely day at Kasey’s 5^th birthday party, I hit the road just after 5, hitting Bank Holiday traffic on the outskirts of London but still parking up in my usual spot just before 7. Joined the queue after samosa tea, gleefully handing over the £20 entrance fee and entering the ornate dimly pink-lit room early doors, people watching from stage left as it filled up, mainly with blokes! Chatted with a young couple, Silas and Laura, before openers Cheerleader took the small stage at 8.30 prompt. A Philadelphia 5-piece, they played a brand of summery jangle pop which initially was wide-eyed, innocent and insubstantial, sounding cloying and dated. However they toughened up with a couple of more powerpoppy numbers to finish, a chugalong “Perfect Vision” and a very melodic, driving Posies-like “Tomorrow Never Knows”, hinting at greater potential. Write more like these last 2, boys, then we can talk…!

Then suddenly the stage front filled up considerably, and the place felt like the super-quick sell-out that it was. The place felt about to blow, with anticipation palpable, before the highly appropriate entrance music of “We’re Gonna Have A Good Time Together” hit, and the band sauntered onstage for 9.30 to a frenzied reception, mainman Craig Finn striding on enthusiastically and announcing, “I bet you all thought you were going to a Hold Steady gig… but instead you’ve all been invited to our Cinco De Maio party!” They hit the opening bars to “I Hope This Whole Thing Didn’t Frighten You”, the blazing opener to the new album, and the place erupted, a huge moshpit breaking out from note one and staying in situ throughout. And I was right in it – hell yes, I was!

This was one for the books, a raw, ragged, elemental, euphoric distillation of the all-inclusive power of rock’n’roll. “Frighten” was brilliant, then incredibly it got better, a punk rock “Ask Her For Adderal” savage and strident, and “Stuck Between Stations” a euphoric blast. And Craig Finn was everywhere; kinetic, brimfull of nervous energy, fire and verve, exhorting the crowd throughout, constantly repeating lines he’d just sung off-mic, a stupid grin never far from his features, a man in permanent fantasy band camp, his performance was utterly mesmeric. I abandoned myself to the mosh and the moment.

Thankfully there were moments of light and shade in the set, a reverent hush descending for “Almost Everything” (“about being on tour and meeting cool people,” according to Finn) and the later, slow-burn to anthemic chorus of “Ambassador” diffused the mood after the tremendous Thin Lizzy-like snaking riffery “Spinners” (the lyric, “there might be a fight, there might be a miracle” pretty much summing up tonight’s show!). But the rock was aplenty; “Hoodrat Friend” was ragged and frenzied, and a brilliant singalong “Southtown Girls” saw the set out, Finn high-fiving his guitarists as they delivered perfect middle-8 riffs.

Then, incredibly, it got even better… the encore sneaked smoothly in with a hushed “Citrus”, but then roared into the terrace chant “Whoa-oh”s of “Massive Nights”, Finn theatrically pausing to deliver the final line of “when the chaperone said…. we’re gonna build something this Summer!” taking us into the Husker Du-like riffery of the magnificent “Constructive Summer”, the highlight of the night – hell, the highlight of my gig year to date. Brilliant. Another terrace chant “Stay Positive” segued into a languid, libidinous finale of “Killer Parties” and saw the wide-eyed Finn deliver a lengthy thanks, culminating in the statement, “there is so much JOY in what we do up here!” And I get it. I totally do. Grabbed a handshake with new guitarist Steve Selvidge (plus his set-list!) as Finn ended with the totally appropriate, “you, me, all of us.. WE are The Hold Steady!” Damn straight, this was a brilliant, totally all-inclusive demonstration of the connection between band and audience, rock’n’roll at its finest.

I extricated myself from the melee, the suddenly realised exactly how sweaty and battered about I’d become, my condition requiring me to drive out of London shirtless, with the windows down! I’m writing this the following lunchtime and my ears are still ringing. The Kings are back – and how!

 

805 THE HOLD STEADY, Wintersleep, Bristol O2 Academy, Saturday 5 February 2011

The 2011 gig year finally gets under way with The Hold Steady, consistently my favourite band of the late “noughties”, and a bit of payback; following my accompanying Rachel to see her current band crush Biffy Clyro at the arse end of ‘10, I’m dragging her along kicking and screaming to see a band she’s not “got” yet. Maybe tonight... Anyway, after a torrid drive down a stormy windswept M4, we parked up early and arrived at the half-full venue (Bristol ! What is wrong with you people?!) in time for support, Canada’s Wintersleep, who played a reasonable set of US alt-guitar rock, veering from reasonable to quite good, and featuring some diverting nasal Ad Frank sound-alike vocals.

The place filled respectably as we took a good viewing spot, extreme stage left; then the lights were killed and the booming intro of The Psychedelic Furs’ classic “Heaven” rang out, as The Hold Steady sauntered onstage, looking for all the world like 5 University lecturers taking a wrong turn on their way back to the common room. “We’re The Hold Steady, it’s Saturday night, we’re going to have a great time,” announced mainman Craig Finn, a bundle of nervous energy in spectacles, as they kicked into the strident blues riff of “Sequestered In Memphis”, a startlingly brilliant sing-along opener about a bar-room pick-up, Craig mockingly adding air-commas to the line, “I went there on business...”

Thence followed a set of rampant, life-affirming, effervescent, joyful, ragged and jagged rock’n’roll of the highest order, played with style, swish and swagger, with titanic, beer-soaked riffery aplenty from guitarist Tad Kubler, and garbling, stream-of-consciousness, semi-spoken tales of killer drug parties, teen adventures by the Mississippi River, and more parties, tumbling headlong from the jerky, kinetic Craig’s brain and mouth. Such is the depth of their material now, it wasn’t until, in response to a request for “a romantic song”, they trotted out “You Can Make Him Like You”, that I noted to Rach, “this is the first number from my favourite album, “Boys And Girls In America”!”. Another sing-along ensued to the hook of, “there’s always other boys, there’s always other boyfriends”. Romantic, pfah!

A roaring, venomous “Constructive Summer”, the best song Husker Du never wrote, saw fists aloft to the line, “raise a toast to Saint Joe Strummer”; “Chips Ahoy” raised the roof with its’ terrace chant “whoa-ho”s; but the subsequent “Stuck Between Stations” was mighty, the now all-guitar attack rejigging the mid-section to make light of keyboard player Franz Nicolai’s recent departure. “Hoodrat Friend” featured a slightly overlong middle eight guitar interplay break, but roared back with a strident vengeance, and the soaring sing-along during “Massive Nights” closed out a brilliant set. A four song encore featured another rousing “woah-ho” sing-along for the agenda-setting “Stay Positive”, before the exuberant Craig thanked us profusely for being a part of a brilliant night. A corking show from a band clearly in love with what they do; I know it’s only February, but I‘ll be hard pushed to see a more enjoyable, life-affirming set this year. Wow. Just… Wow.

Oh, and Rach finally pinpointed why she doesn’t “get” this band; “musically they’re fine, it’s just him (Craig)! He’s annoying and uses far too many words!” Hmmm, well, there’s always been an excessive verbiage element to my music…!

724 THE HOLD STEADY, The Chicks, The New York Fund, Oxford Zodiac, Sunday 25 February 2007

Aah, the Hold Steady... subject of many and varied musical disagreements between Rachel and myself. Having only picked up on them a month ago, I checked out their MySpace, picked up the CD, and found some joyful anthemic driving rock, in a Buffalo Tom meets Replacements style, with the deep voice of a Bob Mould-alike on vocals. Rachel, however, just heard the slightly countrified lilt of the rock, plus the rambling vocal style and keyboard high in the mix, and came up with Hothouse Flowers!

Thus it was that I found myself alone driving to Oxford, parking up and hitting the amply-full venue towards the end of The New York Fund's set. A Scottish band, they peddled a well-received countrified rock, standard but quite good, and were joined by various members of the other 2 bands for their last number, to note the last night of this tour. Main support the Chicks followed in short order. A young smartly dressed 5-piece from New Zealand, they looked like a young Stacy Jones fronting the Click Five, but played a plodding, primitive blues that made their compatriots the Datsuns sound positively sophisticated!

But if it was raw, ragged and elemental we were looking for, we were in for a treat. On promptly at 9.30, and enjoying the rapturous reception from this sold-out crowd of indie kids and oldies like me (!), Brooklyn's The Hold Steady kicked into the type of raucous rock set that totally and utterly encapsulates my love of this stuff. A glorious, euphoric, red-wine fuelled cacophony of noise, riffery and brain-drilling hooks, featuring random, stream of consciousness vocals from former Minneapolis native Craig Finn (aah, so that explains the Bob Mould vocal style!), an urgent, insistent stage presence throughout. Having been knocking around in various bands in the past, they're intent on enjoying their time in the limelight, combining this sense of history ("We saw Bad Brains in the 90's - watching the current hardcore bands after that is like watching your mate hit on a woman that doesn't want to be hit on; embarrassing for all concerned!") with the innate dynamic enjoyment of, say, The Gentlemen.

Virtually all of the current CD got an airing, although opener "Stuck Between Stations", a raucous statement of intent, and an anthemic "Chillout Tent" were my highlights of a 1 1/2 hour set that positively whipped by in a blur of riffs, red wine and mania.

I was disappointed by the bouncer ushering me out afterwards, just as I'd struck up a conversation with impressively mustachioed keyboardist Franz, a drunk yet affable Lou from "Rescue Me" lookalike. Nevertheless, this didn't overshadow a simply superb evening from a great new NYC band!

763 THE HOLD STEADY, Bristol University Anson Rooms, Friday 12 December 2008

"I'm going to see this bloody band on this bloody tour, if it bloody kills me," I thought after missing out on the rearranged Oxford show due to tonsillitis, and so, recovered, booked tix for this one. Little did I know that this would be a road trip to rival 2001's Gravel Pit in NYC...

It started just after I left the house at 7 - then got rear-ended by some pillock on the roundabout just round the corner from my house! D'oh! Car checked (rear bumper secured but seems stable enough...), details exchanged, I was on my way again at 7.15, taking it easy on the sodden M4 and stopping at Leigh Delamare for a paranoia check (still looking OK...). Off the M4 just after 8, then hit a bank of Christmas shopping traffic heading into Cabot Circus on the M32, taking 30 minutes to go 3 miles or so towards the Anson Rooms. Worse was to come, though, as it then took half an hour to find a parking space, a horrible, hot-under-the-collar half hour of scouring tiny side streets in increasing panic, getting lost a couple of times and into arguments with white van driving wankers. I was just about to give up and come home when I found a space about as big as the car, parked it and sprinted through the rain. Just had time to hit the merch stand and buy a "The Hold Steady Almost Killed Me" t-shirt (none more apt...), hit the loo (much needed) and get into the hall before the band were on!

And straight into the Husker Du-lite "Constructive Summer", the opener to their fabulous 2008 album "Stay Positive", and as euphoric a rush of rock power as you'd find this year. Wow!

I really don't understand why The Hold Steady aren't everybody's favourite band! They encapsulate my love of rock perfectly with their euphoric melodies and harmonies, their ragged-arsed bar-room rock riffery allied to stadium-sized singalong choruses, their sense of rock history, evoking the lineage of Buffalo Tom, Replacements, Husker Du and yes, unashamedly, Springsteen, their sheer joy and love for playing rock'n'roll. As befits a band on the ascendancy, this was a more polished, professionally delivered set than the one I'd seen them drunkenly deliver 21 months ago in Oxford (when I say "deliver," I mean "try to post through your letterbox, fail, leave on the front porch instead and run away, pissed and giggling"). The perfect segue into "Sequestered In Memphis", the harmonic "woah-whoa"'s backing up the chorus line in "Chips Ahoy", and Tad Kubler's extraordinary middle 8 riff in the wonderful "Lord I'm Discouraged" testified to this.

Craig Finn, all Bob Mould vocal inflections, expansive jerky gestures and stream of consciousness lyrics, was the focal point, guiding the band through this set for the real connoisseur, playing a mighty 23 songs and drawing on all 4 albums equally. Yet "Your Little Hoodrat Friend" apart, all the highlights for me were from the last 2 albums - the Gentlemen-like swagger in "You Can Make Him Like You", the sozzled singalong to a surprisingly good "Southtown Girls", a frankly brilliant "Stuck Between Stations", the light to follow the shade of the first encore, the heart-achingly raw confessional of "First Night"...

I could go on further but I won't. Suffice to say that this was as honest, emotive and brilliant as rock'n'roll currently gets, fully vindicating the tribulations (and the worrying drive home, when I discovered, on returning to the car, that the rear wheelarch was practically scraping the rear tyre!) I went through to see this bloody band on this bloody tour. God bless The Hold Steady!