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On The Hold Steady's fourth album, singer Craig Finn tears through sordid tales about girls getting screwed against dumpsters ("One for the Cutters"), Saturday nights that stretch into Sunday mornings ("Joke About Jamaica") and run-ins with the law ("Sequestered in Memphis"). But as the title of the new record suggests, Stay Positive's propulsive, riff-heavy brand of pub rock comes with a big dose of optimism. "It's a rage against the dying of the light," says Finn, sitting in a bar in Brooklyn, which is home base for the five-piece. "The record ended up being about holding on to youthful ideals in the face of aging."
In two songs on "Stay Positive," you sing about two kids
dying. Is there a hidden message on the album?
No. Maybe. Somewhat. Yeah. Someone who's listened a lot to Hold
Steady's first three records will understand it a little bit
better. It's like Springsteen. On "Jungleland," he mentions a
"magic rat." I'd always be like, "Who's that rat?"
I love the line "Sniffing at crystal in cute little
cars/Getting nailed against dumpsters behind townie
bars."
As a musician who plays college towns, I see the buildings on Main
Street are always so quaint, but behind, where we park our van, is
as dirty as any other city.
On the new disc, you reference "D'yer Maker," and
musically there seem to be allusions to Zeppelin.
Definitely. Tad Kubler's guitar playing resembles Jimmy Page a
little bit. "Navy Sheets" is almost like an In Through the Out
Door thing, and "Both Crosses" is a Zeppelin III
thing. In 1993, when I graduated from college, there was still a
vast amount of classic rock that I'd never checked out because I
thought it was the enemy of punk rock. When the [Zeppelin] DVD came
out [in 2003], I was finally able to say, "This is amazing. I get
it!" I was able to embrace them after I turned 30.
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Growing up in Minneapolis, you were obsessed with the Replacements. Did you dress like them?
When you're in eighth grade, you can't look as cool as Tommy Stinson, you know? With the creepers and the flannel and the jeans. They had that perfectly disheveled look. Of course we couldn't pull it together, but that's what we wanted to be.
You're also a huge fan of the Minnesota Twins. If you
were a Twin, what song would be blasting during your stroll to home
plate?
I wouldn't want to come out to a Metallica song or something hard
— I'll leave that to David Ortiz. I'd be more of a singles
hitter, so I'd have to have something with a nice groove. Maybe
"Jailbreak," by Thin Lizzy.
Were there a lot of urban legends floating around about
Bob Dylan in Minnesota?
Yeah. My friend from eighth grade claims that he went to the same
summer camp as Dylan, because in one of the cabins, someone carved
the name Bobby Zimmerman. When you deal with Dylan, there's a lot
of legend, very much by his own design. When people meet
celebrities they say, "Oh, he's just a normal guy." Dylan's not a
normal guy. He's superhuman.
At a Bruce Springsteen tribute last year, you sang
"Rosalita" with him. How did that happen?
It was just a charity night, and no one thought he'd be there. But
at soundcheck, we learned he was gonna play. So at the end of the
night, he comes out and invites all the artists onstage and says,
"Anyone know the words to 'Rosalita'?" I think Damon Gough, of
Badly Drawn Boy, took a verse, Jesse Malin took a verse, and I got
to sing the "papa says he knows" line — that's the part you
want! When we walked offstage, Bruce put his arm around me and
said, "Thanks for holdin' it down there, brother."
Did you chat with him?
Not until months later, when I saw him play in St. Paul. I talked
to him backstage, and when I left he said, "Any requests?" And I
said "Thunder Road." He said, "All right, what's your girl's name?"
I said, "Angie." Later, during the show, he said, "By special
request, this one's for Angie!" There are a lot of opportunities in
rock & roll for your heroes to disappoint you, but I have a
hard time believing Bruce has ever disappointed anyone.
[From Issue 1058 — August 7, 2008]