Sunday, July 30, 2006

I packed my suitcase and threw it away
These are the following observations that we have about The Hold Steady, who played at Valentine’s Saturday night:

1. They are total dorks. While listening to a Hold Steady album may provide you with similar information, the lead singer sounding like some agro version of Pee-Wee Herman, we were definitely not prepared for these doses of nerdom. Although, with song lyrics like Charlemagne in Sweatpants and overt references to “Stevie Nix,” I guess, what did you really expect?

2. They have weird fans. I have never seen the kind of disparity of audience members as I saw in attendance at The Hold Steady concert last night. While one might have expected sweaty drunk men, one got sweaty drunk middle-aged and mustachioed men, as well as their totally confounded-seeming female companions. Making it, I guess, not quite unlike certain other venues around town.

3. Dual encores are pretty dope.

If I did not know better, I would think that these guys worked at Last Vestige and were all from Albany, and lived in their mothers’ basements. Seriously: there’s not much to do around, and so it’s not that hard to imagine the following scenario, which is that these dudes hang out at the Palais all night, talking about Thin Lizzy and how great it would be to start a band. Just think: we could combine our love of Budweiser (sic) and strange affinity for 1970’s classic-rock bands and come out with a concept record. And so it makes perfect sense to me that people turned out en masse, and were getting just totally crazy, wildly hooting, and jumping in that unconditional way that seems to denote either massive approval or retardation. What distinguishes The Hold Steady from some wack-ass jibs from Albany, however, is that these guys actually carried this insane plan out to its logical conclusion. They did record an album and go out on tour, which has resulted in the terminus moment of the guy in front of me popping the top of his beer all over everyone, to the apparent lack of chagrin of anyone I can see. There seems to be a corresponding audience for this sort of thing anyway. It was pretty good. Maybe you know.