



Dear Kevin,
As people are getting their favorite picks blasted out of the competition with the kind of stoic heartlessness perhaps needed for such a competition (see under: Jeff rips out Jane’s heart by choosing New Order over the Weakerthans) , I thought I would give a plug for my #2 pick.
Most people I’ve talked to either love The Hold Steady or they hate them. Jane hated them but is starting to come around ever since I dragged her to see them live. In some ways, I wish I had chosen their other album Boys and Girls in America to be higher on the list (it ended up in my #22 slot) because I think it is probably more appealing to most folks. It’s probably a little catchier and a little more polished. However, Separation Sunday—at least for me--carries what a great writer once refered to as “emotional resonance”. It’s also one of the few albums where the lyrics matter to me as much as the music does.
The album starts out with a few kids trying to “decide to go with whatever’s going to get them the hightest”—which essentially turns out to be drugs, lovers, or Jesus—and then proceeds to chronicle the messiness involved in pursuing these different avenues. Craig Fin sort of half talks/sings most of the album, and while I understand this is a turn off for some people, it works for me. Besides, some of the lyrics almost need to be spewed more than sung:
Yer little hoodrat friend's been calling me again / and I can't stand all the things that she sticks into her skin / like sharpened ballpoint pens / and steel guitar strings / she says it hurts but it's worth it / tiny little text etched into her neck / it said "Jesus lived and died for all your sins." / she's got blue black ink and it's scratched into her lower back / it said: "damn right I'll rise again." / yeah, damn right she'll rise again.
Some of this may seem a little adolescent, but then again, it is an album about adolescence. Rather than romanticize that age, Finn reminds us how awful that time can be—thus, his characters’ need to find something to put their faith in. My favorite is Holly, whose story closes the album and who offers us some redemption at the end:
Her parents named her Halleluiah / the kids all called her Holly / if she scared you then she's sorry / she's been stranded at these parties / these parties they start lovely but they get druggy / and they get ugly and they get bloody / the priest just kinda laughed / the deacon caught a draft / she crashed into the easter mass with her hair done up in broken glass / she was limping left on broken heels / when she said father can I tell yer congregation how a resurrection really feels?
In case, you feel like this all too a little serious, there’s some great comedy on the album as well:
Yeah I think I heard about original sin / I heard the dude blamed the chick / I heard the chick blamed the snake / and I heard that they were naked when they got busted / and I heard that things ain’t been the same since.
It’s odd for me to concentrate so much on the lyrics, but I didn’t want you to miss them on a casual listen. This album deserves to be paid attention to, and it’s easy to miss its emotional impact if you get stuck on his voice or the big guitar riffs. The music, I believe, speaks for itself. It’s a little bit of punk and a lot of rock n’ roll. It’s large and dirty and unapologetic.
This may all seem a little earnest, but that’s what this band does to you. They’re not cutting edge (they’re basically playing classic rock), they’re not ironic, and they’re certainly not hipsters (my friend Brooke’s reaction to seeing them live was “He’s so old. He looks like a science teacher. That’s awesome.”) If you choose Automatic for the People I’ll understand (Brian, Steve—want to give a testimony for that album?), but I wanted to put in a good word for this record. If you want, you can do the same for Karen Dalton.
(14) London Calling vs. (19) Blue
Jeff
(15) Massive Attack - Blue Line vs. (18) Eluvium – Copia
Kevin
(16) Hold Steady – Separation Sunday vs. (17) REM Automatic for the People
Round 2
Dwight
(1) Luna – Penthouse vs. (32) Chicane – Behind the Sun
Steve
(2) New Pornographers – Challengers vs. (31) Patty Griffin – Living With Ghosts
Karl
(3) Broken Social Scene – You Forgot It in People vs. (30) Flaming Lips – Soft Bulletin
Andy
(4) Bob Dylan – Time Out of Mind vs. (29) Guns N’ Roses – Use Your Illusion II
Eric
(5) Air – Moon Safari vs. (28) Dread Zeppelin - Unledded
Bruce
(6) Neil Young – Harvest vs. (27) Avett Brothers – I and Love and You
Andrew
(7) Portishead – Dummy vs. (26) Karen Dalton – In My Own Time
Brian
(8) Stone Roses – Stone Roses vs. Iron and Wine – (25) Our Endless Numbered Days
Jane
(9) Spiritualized - Lazer Guided Melodies vs. (24) Bob Dylan - Highway 61
MVB
(10) Rolling Stones - Sticky Fingers vs. (23) Pearl Jam - 10
Luna – Bewitched vs. The Band – The Band
Luna’s Bewitched could certainly contribute a few tracks to the soundtrack to my first few years of college, and it turns out there’s still a lot to recommend the album. I appreciate that it’s mood-malleable or mood-neutral, a.k.a. enjoyable in a variety of states and situations. And there are some hilarious lines: “I had to be drunk just to look at your face / that was alright by me.”
I’ve never been wholly sold on Bewitched, though, and while it’s largely taste, here’s why: I would characterize it, with the main exception of the title track, as somewhat aloof. I’m not looking for consistently heart-wrenching, but I find myself favoring a bit less sheen and a bit more substance. There’s no one song on the album that lyrically or sonically nails it for me, or at least not in the way that makes me anxious to put it on a mix CD or playlist for a friend. Also, much of the second half of the album makes me feel lethargic. It’s just so even, so lulling.
The Band’s The Band wins hands down, partly because as soon as I started listening to the album, I felt a familiar disappointment that it would end eventually and I’d have to go about my business free of The Band. I only listen to this album occasionally when playing cards or cleaning house, but it makes whatever I’m doing better. Instead of being mood-malleable, it is restorative. (For anyone interested in drawing a contrast with the emotional resonance I find lacking on Bewitched, consider “Whispering Pines” on The Band, for one.)
On a larger scale, listening to The Band teaches both rock’s history and future. You see not just the emotional contours of the lyricist’s current life, but also larger cultural and historical contours. There’s a generosity of approach here, a desire to show that much of what we suppose divides us can perhaps bring us together. Not to get all hopeful or anything. It's The Band talking.