"There are nights when i think that sal paradise was right. Boys and girls in america have such a sad time together."

So begins the best album of 2006, and maybe the best album I've ever heard.

Originally I'd planned this blog post to be part one of a five-part series on the five biggest cultural forces of 2006. I'd planned on mentioning The Hold Steady, Steven Colbert, Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, Sasha Cohen and Chuck Klostermann... my way of flying the bird to Time Magazine's "Person of the Year" cop out. I drove and drove, thinking of what to say, but kept coming back to The Hold Steady, thus this piece simply evolved into a love letter to the greatest rock band on the planet.

Calling The Hold Steady a "rock band" is like calling George Bush an "asshole." They aren't A rock band, they're THE rock band.

Last year I got my hands on a copy of Separation Sunday... yes it was an illegal download, but my conscience eventually got the best of me and I purchased a "real" copy of the record. It took one listen, just one spin from start to finish to realize that I was holding something very special. This wasn't just some indie-rock record that would prompt dozens of sixteen year olds to buy skin tight t-shirts and posture endlessly about expression and the underground. This was a real record, one with teeth, but mostly one with meaning. Several hours (and several longnecks) later, I'd fallen in love with a record in a way that I hadn't since I was a child.

Separation Sunday isn't as much an album as it is a story. It's the story of old friends, people you knew from your younger days doing the things you did and going the places you went. I found my friends, my old haunts and my demons in that record. I found pain, joy and ultimately redemption... I found part of myself that I thought I'd lost forever. Listening to Separation Sunday is like flipping through a photo album or slamming back a few beers with old friends at the local bar. It's Springsteen's "Glory Days," only darker, more complicated, more real and considerably longer.

Lead singer and lyricist Craig Finn paints lavish pictures of life in a scene filled with parties, drugs, misery, euphoria and eventually triumph. It's every "scene" in every town in America, from New York City (pop. 8 million) to the Twin Cities (pop. 2.81 million) to Clay City (pop. 1,303). It's the story of the people you know, and if you've ever battled addiction or know someone who has, it's the story of your (or their) life.


So, it was with great apprehension that I purchased "Boys & Girls In America," the band's subsequent release. I'd found something so special in their last record that the thought of a sub-par follow up could be a rather painful experience. However, I needed more. I'd become one of the characters in Separation Sunday, chasing a hit through the streets and meeting strange men in back alleys with bootleg copies of live shows. A trip to Chicago for Lollapalooza in early August provided a much needed "quick fix" as I experienced the band live for the first time, standing in the front row and screaming myself ragged. It was a gloomy sunday, but as amazing as it sounds, the clouds parted and the sun poured seemingly directly on the stage during the piano solo that is the heart and soul of "Stevie Nix." It felt almost as if God himself was a fan, just trying to get a better look at the stage.


After the show I met the band, who happened to be staying at our hotel. Without a trace of arrogance Craig and I briefly debated whether or not Newport was in Kentucky or Cincinnati, I promised to drive as far as necessary to see them again... luckilly that drive was to Newport (which, incidentally, is in Kentucky).


But, back to the original point. Boys & Girls in America was a triumph. A record that was more Clay City than New York, filled with songs about outdoor party pits, drunk dancing at the prom and the difficult dynamics of modern relationships. Each song seemed to speak to me just as profoundly, but on a different level, as Separation Sunday. It was every girl I'd ever dated, the real true love of my life and all the stories in between.

Lyrically, the songs were packed with the same details, clever references and blue-collar struggles that made the first album a monument to the artform. It's that type of thing that previoiusly only Bruce Springsteen seemed to understand... a song isn't truly great until it can whip a crowd into a frenzy and cause thoughtful introspection. These songs were equally comfortable in the most raucous bar in town or the quiet pub around the corner... they were conversations with old friends and conversations with yourself.

Mostly, they were jubilant rock songs that caused hysterical fans to mob the stage and sing along.




The Hold Steady have managed to do something that no other band has done in my lifetime... create the two greatest albums OF my lifetime. Obviously, each record should be evaluated by itself. It should stand alone, and I assure you that it does. However, when paired together these records seem two sides to the same coin. Something incredibly special causing listeners to find parts of themselves in a world populated by meaningless records that will be long forgotten after skinny ties and suit jackets fall out of style (or has that already happened?).


The Hold Steady is that band that makes a kid pick up a guitar. Hell, they make ME want to pick up a guitar. The music they create will be remembered long after they're gone and will inspire a return to rock and roll with meaning. That desperate howl that's sonic force can bring down empires are unite generations had been on life support for quite a while until a Brooklyn bar band's shot of pure adrenaline sent it screaming out of a self-induced coma. Simply put, The Hold Steady may have saved rock & roll.


I want to bring this to a close by just explaining exactly how much these records mean to me. It's obvious by now that I'm a fan, but I'm one fan out of thousands... and that's the point. These songs feel like they were written especially for me, telling the stories of the people I know, the places I've been and most importantly, the things that I've done. I've made entirely too many mistakes in my life, often seeming to be one right after another. I always felt that there'd be redemption one day, a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, but some days that feeling is a little harder to find than others. These albums seem personal. They seem to speak to me, to tell me that everything is going to be okay and that faith in whatever you chose to have faith in will eventually bring you into the light.


It's as if The Hold Steady are the rock & roll therapists for an entire generation that seems stuck between stations... on the radio



Thanks, guys.


Let me be just another voice signing on to the mantra... The Hold Steady almost killed me (right before they saved my life).