Fumbling through the jitterbug.

THE HOLD STEADY - 10/2/11 - The Academy, Dublin

Man. You really have to feel bad for Wintersleep. Their support slot for the Hold Steady in the Academy was, ostensibly, a clever step up from their headline slot in the far smaller Academy 2 downstairs. But: oh no! It seems that I can't remember much of their act at all (beyond a mental note of the fact that their sound is an incomprehensibly blandy-guitary-mulchy mix of a bored Band of Horses and a third-rate Interpol cover band - which is strange, because I actually enjoyed their live show two years ago. Oh well, &c.) I suppose such is the ill fate of anyone playing directly before one of the two most exciting rock bands still playing today. (Unless you're the Drive-By Truckers, and therefore the other most exciting rock band still playing today, and you're on the Rock n' Roll Means Well tour with the Hold Steady, and you're NOT TAKING THE TOUR TO IRELAND AND I'M NOT BITTER AT ALL NO SIR. Then you're probably okay.) (And while I'm on Wintersleepy tangents, special mention should go to the possibly-coked-up ginger mophead who was doing some entertainingly dedicated solo slam dancing right at the railing for the duration of the Nova Scotians' set. Kudos to you, sir.)

Anyway: Hold Steady! I always find it hard to talk about this band without dipping into embarrassing hyperbole, completely shredding any chance of my looking the slightest bit objective, making this whole thing look slightly ridiculous; and a man in my position cannot afford to be made to look ridiculous. Suffice to say, they're without doubt the most effortlessly energetic handful of middle-aged nerds to put on a brain-creasingly loud rock show in the last week or two. My ears: how they ring with the sound of LOUD ROCK MUSIC. Except not rock music, but instead, tinnitus.

Tad Kubler. I'm sure some subset of fans call him The Koob. And if not, why not?

From the bracing guitar salvo of Constructive Summer that opened the show to the wordless chants of Slapped Actress that closed it, the Hold Steady - going keyboardless on this European jaunt, following excellently-moustached keyboardist Franz Nicolay's departure last year - were the embodiment of straightforward, gutpunching rock n' roll. The lack of keyb meant a new focus on the two-to-three guitar attack, most notable when the extended piano passages in Stevie Nix were rearranged into a tremendous Thin Lizzy-referencing duelling guitar section. Meanwhile, out in front Craig Finn was brazenly straddling the line between ironic and earnest; the stories Finn tells are often wordy and rife with struggle, but he tells 'em with a smirk on his face and a beer in his hand. And he's never far away from an eminently quotable lyric: for example, "She said the theme of this party's The Industrial Age - and you came in dressed like a train wreck," "Raise a toast to Saint Joe Strummer; I think he might have been our only decent teacher," and the wonderful "She said you remind me of Rod Stewart when he was young: you got passion and you think that you're sexy, and all the punks think that you're dumb."

Highlights were many - an early foray into b-side world for the wonderful Ask Her For Adderall stands out, as does Finn's attempt to introduce Girls Like Status by saying "My dad tried to motivate me by telling me..." only for a reveller to yell "You're not my son!" which had Finn laughing until halfway through the song. At least, I presume it was a reveller - if it was actually his dad, it lends an unwieldy air of tragedy to the whole thing.

But the presiding feeling of the night was one of enthusiasm - from the band, obviously, but also throughout the crowd: a couple directly in front me turning to each other to play some practiced air guitar; a teenaged kid jumping up and down beside a middle-aged bearded fellow who happily joined in; the hands thrown in the air at the mere mention of Joe Strummer's name in Constructive Summer. It's the kind of primal rock show, surging along on shared energy, that everyone should see at least once in their life: just learn a few of the key choruses, and throw yourself into the sea of bodies bouncing and singing to Your Little Hoodrat Friend.

Al Byrne

(Photo credit to John K from the band's forum)