The Hold Steady Boys And Girls In America by: Al Cottrill Mon:07-May-07 Label: Vagrant Year: 2006 WB rating 91 out of 100

I get tired of hearing that ‘after a few listens’ the music will grab you. I’m even guilty of using the phrase myself. The fact is, when it really comes down to it, the music should grab you from day one, from the first second. This doesn’t mean that music is ‘bad’ if it doesn’t; it would just be even better if it did. So, thank God for The Hold Steady.

It’s not for everyone. For those that prefer flavours watered down; light-alcohol, low-carb, 99% fat free; the loud, immediate, in-your-face sound of The Hold Steady may be too much. Then again, people should get out and experience life. Immediacy is what The Hold Steady do, bursting from the blocks and not letting up for 11 songs (15 counting the bonus Australian-release tracks). Boys And Girls In America is balls-out, anthemic, classic rock. There is no irony in their sound; their lyrics are not post-modern constructs; it’s not put out there to analyse; it is music made to consume, to associate, to enjoy.

This lack of posing extends to the albums themes. The Hold Steady are still the narrators of a certain American life; getting messed up and pinned down at concerts, hanging in suburban shopping malls, and chasing evanescent crushes through parties and comedowns. Finn’s lyrics deal with it all, but revolve around central themes of getting drunk and high; and all the beautiful and crushing in-betweens. You can’t help but hear Springsteen, Petty, Mellencamp, Westerberg and even Billy Joel. Lyrically and instrumentally, it’s perfect Americana.

‘Stuck Between Stations’ opens the record, and with ‘Chips Ahoy’ and ‘Hot Soft Light’ make a powerful trifecta. Backed by a band sounding as skilled and tight as the E-Street band at its peak (It’s a sound far more Born To Run than Darkness on the Edge of Town), singer Craig Finn slurs “There are nights when I think that Sal Paradise was right/Boy and girls in America have such a sad time together”. It’s the albums’ manifesto, in sound as much as theme, with (comparatively) restrained verse instruments exploding ecstaticly into the choruses. ‘Chips Ahoy’ comes next, vying for favouritism with ‘Hot Soft Light’. The initial song’s nostalgic Hammond organ, delirious backing “whoa-oh-oh’s” and repeated refrain “How am I supposed to know that you’re high if you won’t let me touch you?/How am I supposed to that you’re high if you won’t even dance?” battles with track three’s Thin Lizzy power-chords, racing piano and metaphorical wordplay like “It started ice cream social nice/It ended up all white and ecumenical”. Playing favourites is an almost impossible task.

That is, until you reach ‘First Night’. It is an absolute peak; the band unbelievably tight; the lilting melody flawless; even before Finn breaks, slurring more heavily than ever, telling of his friends: “Charlemagne shakes in the streets/Gideon makes love to the suites”. It’s relieving too, hearing of our libertines from Separation Sunday: “She was golden with barlight and beer/She slept like she’d never been scared”. Even better is the song’s second movement. After three minutes of gentle piano-driven melody, the song breaks, and stops momentarily before a new sound is born; confident, refreshed, building piano, and then Finn tears in, spewing vitriol out over a choral track and string-supported full band: “When they kiss they spit white noise”.

The Hold Steady blaze through the album, rarely pausing, seldom slipping, even their slow songs are both delicate and powerful, packed with metaphors and delivered with wry humour: “Lost in fog and love and faithless fear/I’ve had kisses that make Judas seem sincere” (‘Citrus’). Boys And Girls In America is certainly more approachable than past Hold Steady. It’s slick, catchy and cleaner than on Separation Sunday, more piano driven, melodic, less bluesy rock. Luckily, Finn is still gouging out lines in his thick, distinctive delivery. It grounds the music, a perfect foil to the enthusiasm of the riffs and piano lines. He creates delicate, depressed tales of urbanity, filled with restless Americana, thoughtful metaphors and destructive addiction. The carefree play of youth is not criticised, it simply has its portrait drawn: a black hole of disillusioned youth, driving for grog runs and drug scores, from party to party. Veering from the Iron & Wine guitar of ‘Citrus’, foot-tapping beat and spastic Hammond of ‘Massive Nights’, into the dirty, improvised sound of ‘Southtown Girls’, The Hold Steady wrap up this story in three decades of American rock influence.

It’s hard to review an album that you’ve already been listening for who-knows-how-long, from a band whose last albums received the same treatment. To remember why you loved it in the first place; what caught your ear. With Boys And Girls In America, it is easier. The Hold Steady is the tightest, slickest, catchiest band currently releasing music, Finn’s vocals combine narrative tales with rose-tinged recollections, delivered slurring and wry, with humour and enthusiasm, but never criticism. It’s America’s mid-west, it’s a suburban wasteland, it’s wasted youth, and it’s visceral and honest; classic rock ‘n’ roll.