I started writing this a couple of times and couldn't really get through it. This is a blog, not a magazine or a newspaper; so I usually don't have a problem talking about things in personal terms. But I could never get this to sound like anything other than just my singular, middle-aged, suburban guy perspective. I am what I am, I guess, so one, final try. Consider this my Hold Steady review.
CoolMom had a few days off last week while the cooldaughters were on their between-school-and-camp break. She likes to do stuff, so she made plans for us all to go to Ellis Island on Thursday. Much complaining. Complaining from me because I don't like to venture out of my little hidey hole for more than just food and shows. Complaining from the girls because of the complaining from me and because, apparently, "We're not supposed to do anything educational on our summer vacation!" That was a new one on me, but I -- regretfully -- went with it.
Anyway, we all gave CoolMom a hard time; but despite stubbornly sticking to our "we don't want to do this" position, I'm pretty sure we all enjoyed ourselves. Both of my paternal grandparents came to New York from Italy right around the time of the First World War, and I admit to feeling a little something as we stood there in the giant Ellis Island receiving hall or when we were looking at the barracks where new immigrants slept. It started me thinking a little bit about family and history and connections.
On Friday night, CoolMom and I had our first of TWO nights out together when we went to see The Hold Steady at The Stone Pony Summer Stage. As I was studying up for the show by listening to the band's entire discography chronologically on Thursday night, I noticed again that part of the connection I feel with the band and with songwriter Craig Finn comes from the overt use of Catholic imagery in the songs. Sure, the stories about Charlemagne, Holly, Sapphire, Gideon, and The Cityscape Skins talk about partying, drinking, drugs, a possible murder; but they're really about betrayal, redemption, resurrection.
I'm just about the farthest thing from a religious person these days; but our backgrounds, our histories shape how we view and relate to the world, whether we like it or not. That means that Craig Finn (and Patrick Stickles and Bruce Springsteen, for that matter) tells his stories in a language that I understand and can relate to pretty deeply. Being able to laugh at a line like "Hey Peter, you've been pretty sweet since Easter Break [which starts, of course, around Good Friday]," is a connection that I share with some guy from Minnesota because we've got a similar family history.
Finn plays it up even more during the band's live show. Throughout the show on Friday night, he held his arms out at their full wingspan or formed them into crosses or shook his hands at the crowd like he was dispensing holy water. He shouted lines like "Damn right, she'll rise again!" at the crowd, and we all screamed back. And some little part of me, some little part of my anti-organized religion, lapsed Catholic self ate it up. It's that feeling of being in on the joke, of maybe "getting" something that not everybody else gets.
So that's me. I love The Hold Steady because, even though I haven't experienced most of what goes on in the plot of their stories, I know the language. I'm sure not everyone experiences them that way. They're loud. They rock. There's plenty to like there without being "in on the joke." Maybe you don't like them at all. Maybe some other band speaks to you, and that's cool.
It's all these things that we've built as human beings: art, language, (even) religion, and music. My ancestors brought theirs over from Italy and Ireland. CoolMom's came from Russia, Ukraine, Hungary. Maybe yours came from China or Spain or somewhere else. Maybe you're religious. Maybe you're not. Maybe you just love music. The point is that there's all this stuff out there. All this stuff that -- for me, in my specific case, anyway -- a band like The Hold Steady tap into when they perform. It's the stuff that really does, in a lot of ways, remind me that "we can all be something bigger."
Pics of The Hold Steady from my spot along the barricade are up at Flickr.
Note: I don't mean any slight to The Drive-By Truckers, who co-headlined the evening. I just didn't see their set. It was a busy, busy weekend in the area; and I went to support some friends at another show.
No comments :
Post a Comment