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Hold Steady frontman Craig Finn keeps it intimate and personal, debuting new FNL-inspired album at Frank →

This was a pretty under-the-radar show, for the first-ever performance of solo material by the guy from a still-popular indie rock band. (Also: Lot of hyphens in that sentence, huh?) Craig Finn did a warm-up set in advance of his solo tour behind his upcoming Clear Hearts Full Eyes at my favorite hot dog restaurant in Austin, because of course he did.

The show was pretty great, honestly — it’s usually both exciting and kinda weird to hear a set of all-new material for the first time, especially when it’s by someone whose other work you’re very familiar with, and my plaid shirt and thinning hair should confirm that I am very much in the Hold Steady’s demographic. Finn’s lyrics are usually more like short fiction, but the new stuff is largely personal essay, and it’s cool to hear how he adapts. Read the full review at CultureMap for early impressions on his new solo material.

[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]
Track: Constructive Summer
Artist: The Hold Steady
Caption:

150 Favorite Songs: #96, “Constructive Summer,” The Hold Steady (2008)

So much of what “Constructive Summer” means to me is tied into the time I found it. Those were not my happiest days, those months early in 2008. We were paying many thousands of dollars a month to live in Zone 3 London and I had no one to hang out with and I had just started receiving rejections to the query letters I’d been sending regarding the novel I’d recently completed. Not rejections of the novel, mind you — no one actually wanted to read the book to tell me they weren’t interested. They were rejecting the idea of having me send them the first fifty pages. I had just learned that all of the writing and performing I had spent the years prior doing — touring the country reading and publishing poems, and making zines and basically just saying yes to every opportunity that I could find with the expectation that I’d come out of it with something new to say — none of that shit counted, in the eyes of the editors and agents I was trying to reach. That was like falling hard on your keys.

(It’s also, quite directly, what led me to pursue journalism seriously — I realized that no one would read the book if I had no credentials, and that the things I had thought were my credentials were actually not interesting to anyone. I set out a goal to get published in four or five reputable outlets, all of which would improve my resume to the point I could get people to reject the book after reading it, rather than before. The first outlet on my list was The A.V. Club, which worked really well. The others, like McSweeney’s and Tin House, I haven’t really thought about in a long time, but I suspect I might have enough of a resume at this point that the rejections would be based on the work itself. And rejections they would be, as time, a beneficial creative writing group, and subsequent re-readings of the text have assured me that the book was not publishable in its 2008 form. But I digress!)

Anyway. Through all of that, there were two songs that I found that felt very much like the friends I wished I’d made in London. One of them, “Williamsburg Will Oldham Horror” by Jeffrey Lewis, appears (quite high) on this list. The other is “Constructive Summer.” I’d never really cared for the Hold Steady before they released the album this song opens, Stay Positive. After listening to it, though, I really felt like I was less alone. This is what music is good for when you are a teenager, and it is what music can do — less often, but still sometimes — even when you are a grown-up. When it happens now, it feels so much more valuable, based on its scarcity.

The first line — “Me and my friends are like / the drums on ‘Lust For Life’” — hit me square in my expat isolation. I really missed my friends. It goes on to get all Springsteen-y, about working in a mill and drinking with your buddies on water towers, but then that chorus rolls in — “We’re gonna build something this summer,” is all it says — and it sounds so inspiring when you put it that way. Just build something. Together. It’s not a grand ambition, not specific, not even based inĀ  having completed it — it’s just about building. Where I was at in 2008, when I first heard this song, that was a really important concept.

There are others, too. “Let this be my annual reminder that we can all be something bigger.” “Getting older makes it harder to remember / we are our only savior.” “Raise a toast to Saint Joe Strummer.” All of these lines that felt ripped from my notebook. It took me a long time to understand how I felt about the second half of that year in London, to figure out the ways it changed me that I never noticed at the time. And it’s a little weird, by the time you’re in your late twenties, to attribute some of that change to a song. But when I think about being in that tiny flat on Hornsey Road above the Costcutter, I’m usually sitting at the table typing, headphones on so I don’t wake Kat, listening to this song and planning what it is I’m going to build.

[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]
Track: You Can Make Him Like You
Artist: The Hold Steady
Caption:

150 Favorite Songs: #134, “You Can Make Him Like You,” The Hold Steady (2006)

I don’t know if a song ever made me feel more uncomfortably called-out than “You Can Make Him Like You.” It’s not even three minutes long, and it doesn’t deviate from the Hold Steady’s formula of shout-along choruses, slurred-speech verses, and Springsteen-y riffs. But, geez. Way to put some perspective on the general indie rock dude shittiness that I — and most other guys, I’m sure — have put our various girlfriends through.

“You don’t have to know the inspiring people / let your boyfriend know the inspiring people / you can hang in the kitchen / talk about the stars in the upcoming sequels.” Before I wrote this, I looked this song up on SongMeanings.com, because I wanted to see what other people thought — that line gets mentioned a lot by people who think the song is about “girls who live their lives through their boyfriend.” I sure hear it more as being about the boys who put them in that position. And that’s the kind of easy sexism that it’s really useful to check regularly. Because you can act that way — you can treat the women in your life like they’re accessories, or like you should always be the one who picks what y’all listen to, or what movie you watch, or whatever — even while you march for Planned Parenthood. You can be casually dismissive in ways that keep you in charge and her in the backseat even while you wear a t-shirt that says this is what a feminist looks like. You can have all the right ideals, but you also have to treat the people in your life in a way that exemplifies those ideals.

And so when Craig Finn starts singing to all the women listening to this song about all of the things you can let your boyfriend deal with, the decisions you can let him make, the things you can let him be good at, and reassuring them that they still have power, because, haha, they can just get a new boyfriend if they want to change it up — man, I’d never had to worry about defining myself by someone else. But I’ve been a Big Personality guy a lot of my life, and so why would I? And when you realize that that’s a luxury, a privilege, that you enjoy because of the way the world treats you — and then you think about some of the people you’ve dated and the ways that you just let that go by unchecked — it’s a pretty eye-opening thing to get confronted with by a big, catchy rock song.