The Hold Steady, Boys and Girls in America

The new Hold Steady record, Boys and Girls in America was released on Tuesday, and I picked it up immediately at iTunes. I’ve listened to it straight through a bunch of times now, while doing onther things. So, how is it?

The short answer is “Not as good as Separation Sunday.” At least, it doesn’t have any songs that made the same kind of electric, immediate impact as “Your Little Hoodrat Friend” and “How a Resurrection Really Feels.”

Of course, that’s praising with faint damns– very few records grab me as quickly and effectively as Separation Sunday did, so saying that this one failed to do so isn’t much of a surprise. There’s a lot of room below that level, including some very good albums. Like, well, this one.

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And this really is an excellent record. It’s got a bit less of an edge than Separation Sunday, in a musical sense– there’s a lot more tinkly piano mixed in with the crunching guitars, and while Craig Finn still barks out the lyrics, he’s backed it off a notch, probably because he’d like to continue to have a voice for a few more albums. Lyrically, though, it’s as sharp as ever, with oddly perfect little images popping up all over the place: “She was a damn good dancer, but she wasn’t that much of a girlfriend,” “She was hard on the heart, but soft to the touch,” “She was golden with firelight and fear.”

This is less of a concept album than Separation Sunday, in that it doesn’t feature the same characters throughout (though Holly and Charlemagne do get name-checked), but most of the songs are about relationships at one level or another (hence, Boys and Girls in America), mostly involving characters who move in the same sort of circles as those from the previous record. There’s everything from a dysfunctional couple hitting it big at the track (in “Chips Ahoy,” with the chorus, “How’m I supposed to know that you’re high if you won’t let me touch you?”) to a high-school prom (“Massive Nights,” featuring both, “The dance floor was crowded, the bathrooms were worse,/ We kissed in your car and we drank from your purse” and the decidedly odd “I had my mouth on her nose when the chaperone said we were dancing too close.”), to kids overdoing the drugs at a summer music festival (“Chillout Tent,” with guest vocals from people who actually sing).

The bar-band vibe that all reviews of the Hold Steady are obligated to mention is intact. If anything, it’s clearer on this record than on Separtion Sunday— I don’t know what bars the reviewers for Rolling Stone hang out in, but most of the bands I’ve heard playing bars don’t go quite so heavily into the Catholic imagery. These songs have a bit less philosophical content, and the same big, crunchy guitar riffs, and it’s easy to imagine them working really well live. Some of them would probably be improved by a live performance– “Same Kooks” being the chief example.

So, in the end, a very good album, and a solid follow-up to their last record. If you haven’t listened to them before, and want an idea of what it’s all about, I’d recommend checking out “Stuck Between Stations,” “Chips Ahoy,” and “Massive Nights.” “Chill Out Tent” is also good– a nice example of the sort of character sketches that they do so well– but not exactly typical, given the guest vocals.