We All Kinda Fumbled through the Jitterbug

The Hold Steady
The Southgate House 
Newport, KY: December 8, 2006

Perhaps it’s bad form to write about the same band twice within a one-month period, especially if said band was responsible for (in your estimation) one of 2006’s biggest musical disappointments, but the Hold Steady’s show at the Southgate House last Saturday night warrants yet another entry in the endless stream of blogger admiration. And, so as not to confuse anyone, let’s not pretend that their performance was in any manner unique – it was essentially the same music you will find on their albums, minus a few overdubs and played slightly louder than your home stereo will allow. And, let’s be honest, Craig Finn’s between-song banter was hardly anything to write home about.  With zingers like, “I don’t own a TV, but if I did there’s only one show I would watch – Cops. Although they should probably just call it ‘Best Excuses,’ which is sort of what this next song is about,” I couldn’t help but remind myself that these guys are going to need a little more practice before they bring their neo-classic rock sound to Storytellers. The audience, too, wasn’t nothin’ special to look at: just a bunch of High Life swilling, normal looking dudes like myself, wrapped up in scarves and sweaters to insulate themselves from the freezing Kentucky air. More disturbing were the few out of place females who started dancing with their out of place, clean-looking dates. Well, not so much “dancing” as full on grinding: crotches rubbing up and down thighs, hips bumping into hips, and fingers tousling hair. “Who in their right mind grinds to ‘Stuck Between Stations’?” I wondered to myself, feeling old and at the same time wondering if there was something to this music that I had been missing out on all along.

What was remarkable about seeing the Hold Steady live is that, in doing so, you realize how backwards it is to listen to them any other way. It seems so wrong to sit and listen to “Chips Ahoy!” on your iPod headphones, when by all means you really ought to be raising a glass and singing “Who-o-oa-o-oha-oh!” at the top of your drunken lungs together with hundreds of other people at roughly the same time. While you may lose some of the narrative strings tying Charlamagne, Gideon, and Holly’s life stories together, the theatricality was in no short supply.  Franz Nicolay, the group’s keyboardist and stylistically effete doppleganger of Deadwood’s Swearengen, would wildly gesticulate as though he was conducting the music and frequently rest his face behind his free hand, apparently lamenting something. Better yet was Finn’s insistence on repeatedly mimicking his own stories as he told them, like on “Cattle and the Creeping Things” when he would mime opening a door and sing, “Then some old lady came to the door and said ‘Mackenzie Phillips doesn’t live here anymore.’” Then, stumbling stage left without a microphone, he’d shrug and yell, “Mackenzie Phillips doesn’t live here anymore.” Then he’d stumble stage right and mouth the same words, “Mackenzie Phillips doesn’t live here anymore.” He was obviously overjoyed.

We all were. It was almost impossible to even get a glimpse of the band behind all the fist pumping and beer bottles raised in tribute to Tad Kubler’s many guitar solos. But we weren’t just there to watch a band put on a show for us, we were exulting in the spirit of rock and roll. When the encore finally rolled around, the audience had completely overtaken the stage and the five musicians who were still trying to retain the epic-ness of their closer: couples were making out, bloggers were snapping digital photos, wannabe rock’n'rollers were busy memorizing chord progressions, and everyone else was simply rocking out. The boys and girls in the Southgate House were having a grand time together.

The Hold Steady – Massive Nights
(from Boys and Girls in America)

-Posted by Todd