Sunday 3 January 2010

THE HOLD STEADY – ALMOST KILLED ME (FRENCHKISS)


THE HOLD STEADY – ALMOST KILLED ME (FRENCHKISS)

The Hold Steady arrived firing on all cylinders from the word go.  They came box fresh having earned their stripes in various apprentice acts ahead of ascending on the show.  In Craig Finn they house a killer front man and amazing orator owning a crushing way with words as by his side is a loose and fuzzy set of effective musicians playing pop hard.  Initially/originally label mates of Les Savy Fav there is a common thread in these early blunt gestures and prickly approach with eventually would give way to bigger hooks and happier sensibilities.  But on Almost Killed Me here is an act playing as if their life depends on it.

That said Almost Killed Me is something of a party album.  Being slightly older and more experience having already once been through the indie rock wringer, at such an early stage in a band’s career its player were able to bring a knowing approach to proceedings.

The cover features punk splashed photos of indulgence and hedonism with the eyes of the participants blocked out by black bars.  This without doubt is done to protect the innocent.  And there isn’t much innocent about this album.

Sounding like the record The Replacements might have made were they from New York, the narrative vocal style of Finn makes him something of a storyteller and thus the album has a concept.  In exposing earned bruises and scars there is high value in the execution of these despatches.

Like a good book the album begins with quite the intro and declaration of “Positive Jam”.  As a vocal history lesson occurs eventually the band catches up and kicks in as Finn sends command to the audience (“to all you snivelling indie kids, hold steady”).  It is quite the address, heavy and lurching summoning much surrender.

From here the pace seriously picks up stepping up a gear with “The Swish” and more bar room anecdotes of past and present.  The hooks come hard and heavy as the words explain existing in excess and the places it takes you.

God love a band that says its own name in songs.

As the structure of the stories progress so does the confidence of the band and its playing becomes bolder.  In other words here is a band not afraid of a solo be it guitar as on “Most People Are DJs” or the Clarence Clemons-esqe Springsteen saxophone of “Hostile, Mass”.

Rolling with the punches the record features frequent appearances by a mysterious character called Charlemagne offering some kind of Last Exit To Brooklyn attitude and intrigue to proceedings.

It is on “Knuckles” that things become ferociously first person.  There appears to be an identity trying to be attained.  Missing the point it reminds me of George Costanza trying to get the office to call him T-Bone in addition to my own successful effort to establish my own nickname as JGRAM.  This however is an altogether different proposition, by being called Freddie Knuckles a badge of street honour is looking to be owned.  And it just isn’t being attained.  When drugs are involved any experiment is dicey and the key thing is that the individual be a survivor.  With that achieved street platitudes follow.

As with the clear intro there is a clear outro in the postscript of “Killer Parties” with a drawn out jam of pining nostalgia.  In words it is the sound of growing old and winding down with one eye looking back on better days.  It is the sound of maturity mutating momentarily.

Remember when indie rocks became stupid and started celebrating Bruce Springsteen?  This notes for them.  It might almost kill you too.

Thesaurus moment: outlast.

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