Craig Finn

Off Broadway, St Louis, MO

$12, General Admission, We got a spot at the edge of the stage.

In Attendance: Jerry, Carly, Me

We didn’t see The Hold Steady, we saw Craig Finn. He didn’t play any Hold Steady songs, or sell their albums, and only mentioned them maybe once. But The Hold Steady is probably the best bar band in the country, and Craig Finn is their leader, and we saw him play in a bar. The superfan that follows The Hold Steady everywhere (We see him at every show. He noticed that Jerry had gotten a haircut) was standing right by the stage, just like always. And it was packed, and everybody sang along, and Finn danced and twisted his feet around and got into his preachy big-gestured mood, telling funny stories between songs. I can’t think of anything to compare it to besides a Hold Steady concert.

Oh how my life would improve if everything I did compared to a Hold Steady concert. There was one distinct difference: I could still hear when it was over. Pretty sure the last Hold Steady show did permanent damage.

We were right up by the stage, like when we see you-know-who, and I didn’t want to disturb Finn with my camera, which sucks with the flash off. He was so much in my face as it was, I almost got hit with his guitar a couple times. That would have rocked. The place was so crowded that at one point, Finn past a twenty to someone in the audience and ordered a couple Maker’s Mark on the rocks. Finn (backed by a new band of guys cooler than me. A drummer named Falcon, everybody.) played every song from his new album, Clear Heart Full Eyes, and then some, using a story-driven quartet of songs near the end to split the set. It was just Finn and his pedal-steel player, a guy named Randy Ray Jackson, doing songs that were near campfire tales. A spooky song about intruders hitting the front door with a hammer and vandalizing a girlfriend’s car. Stuff like that.

The whole night was fun, but the highlights were New Friend Jesus, which everyone already knew the words to, and Terrified, which Finn taught us on the spot. It’s one of those songs that sounds straight out of the 1970s, in a good way, like rolling up the windows at a drive-in movie, and searching the AM stations until something good comes on. Boy do I love a Hold Steady show.

Grade: A

Van Halen, A Different Kind Of Truth

Van Halen is back! I said, VAN HALEN IS BACK! Anyone? Diamond Dave, everybody! Air-splits! Guitar solos! Shirts! Wait, no shirts!

Anyone?

Van Halen settled the debates over who should sing lead by just waiting until everyone stopped talking about it completely. And then they picked David Lee Roth, which would be news, if they hadn’t already picked David Lee Roth every five years or so for the past twenty. I’ve been a fan of Van Halen, here and there, in nearly every incarnation. I can’t say much about the Gary Cherone years, I barely recall it, but if Hot For Teacher or Finish What You Started comes on*, then who am I do deny their pleasures? Those are great songs.

*Where would I be that Hot For Teacher or Finish What You Started would just suddenly come on? Are those even played in strip clubs anymore? Maybe I should buy them.

Van Halen is most effective, I find, when they’re being a bit sleazy. Eddie Van Halen is one of the few guitarists who can play a solo and you think, “Well that was dirty. I hope no one was offended.” Those solos are present throughout A Different Kind Of Truth. Likewise, David Lee Roth talk-sings like a perverted Music Man, come to town to lead all the moms to his hotel room.

Nearly all of Roth’s vocals are doubled on the verses, with him singing on one track, then growling the same lyrics in his lowest bass. A lot of A Different Kind Of Truth is based on old demos, but I assume the playing and singing are new. Tattoo is aimed at the “momshells” in the audience, some of whom are definitely going to be lifting their shirts at concerts. Roth actually still has his voice, if you were wondering. His speaking voice is mainly rasp, but his belt is pure and full. He sounds great, and more like Paul Stanley than I ever realized. Of course that could be the influence of songs with titles like Outta Space, Beats Workin’ and She’s The Woman. Van Halen wants you to come out to their shows, but they also want you to stop and shoot pool after work, maybe fuck whats-his-name’s wife, show her what she’s missing. Maybe hook up with that hot bartender next? The one with the dreamcatcher necklace? I heard she hates Sammy Hagar.

Stay Frosty, which is partly acoustic, but has huge punctuations of guitars and drums, finds Roth searching for spiritual satisfaction to go along with his more obvious longings. It’s a bluesy story song, full of puns and surprising tempo changes. This is the song I would have loved the most as a kid, because it’s fast and slow, features one of Van Halen’s patented drill-like solos, and has goofy lyrics (“You wanna be a monk, you gotta cook a lot of rice.”). The best song on A Different Kind Of Truth, (and to be sure, there are good songs here. I kid because I love.) is You And Your Blues, a full-bodied 1980s rocker, where the guitar solos don’t stop just because someone is singing, forcing Roth to go big on the chorus (with Eddie Van Halen backups. You think they stand back-to-back? Please say yes.), singing about being tired of his woman’s depression and anxiety. It’s not the most compassionate stance, but I’m guessing if you’re in Van Halen, it’s a shock when you’re finally ready to party and everyone else hasn’t arrived yet.

Grade: B

Ryan Adams

Peabody Opera House, St Louis, MO

In Attendance: Wade, Robin, Me, Jerry, Carly (and like 5 other people we knew. Ryan Adams has a lot of friends in St. Louis. Or I do?)

$40, Right Orchestra Row V

Ryan Adams treated the Peabody as if it were, say, my living room. Transitioning through a long setlist spanning his entire career, he tossed off the most relaxed of stage banter, typically a self-deprecating comment about the depressing nature of his songs. At one point, his hair was in his eyes, so he pulled it up and secured it with a guitar capo. As a contrast to the casual nature of the show, the songs Adams played were warm, full-voiced and nearly completely rearranged. When she saw the piano, Robin knew Adams do some special versions of his songs. At one point, she doubled her fists, leaned in toward the stage, and whispered, “Rescue Blues.” AND THEN THAT’S WHAT HE PLAYED.

Throughout the evening, Adams moved from seated in the center of the stage, playing acoustic guitar, playing an upright piano with his back to the audience, and standing on the opposite side of the stage for the more upbeat songs. Those were rare, but welcome.

Although the evening was largely sedate, it was fun and compelling throughout (although not always at the same time.) The highlights were plenty, but my favorite moments were Two, Come Pick Me Up (Which Robin also made happen with her mind, per my request), and New York, New York, performed on the piano as a torch song. I’m so used to a celebratory side of the song and the city it represents, but this version served as a reminder that Adams left something, or someone, there that haunts him when he returns.

Grade: A-

Lana Del Rey, Born To Die

Lana Del Rey has captured part of the zeitgeist in a peculiar way, not by tapping into what’s happening at the moment, or predicting what might be coming next, or even by commenting on it by putting a retro slant on a current trend. Instead, she’s staked her pop culture territory by being absolutely bored with everything. And instead of keeping herself busy (say what you will about Lady Gaga, dude multi-tasks), she just stays bored, and shows it to us, full stop. She’s got the sleepy, slurred delivery of someone like Niko, distilled through a tradition of vowel-bending moaned and yodeled out by the likes of Tori Amos and Jewel. But to watch Lana Del Rey perform—and to be certain, the visual is part of the act—is to see someone whose lack of interest in performing is the performance itself. With her monotone delivery, long nails, heavy wig, and sleepy eyes, Del Rey’s singing on SNL recalled no one more than that show’s own A-Hole (Two A-Holes Sing on SNL), played by Kristen Wiig. Born To Die, the debut album by Lana Del Rey, looks like a rabbit.

Much of Born To Die is interesting, if not compelling. Del Rey may indeed be playing a character, but I don’t care what happens to her. It’s all presented through a haze of keyboards, atmospheric fuzz, and echoing percussion. Del Rey’s lethargic delivery is kind of dreamily druggy. She sounds like Enya crossed with the woman who sings Cryin’ in Spanish in Mulholland Drive. Some of the songs approach a Stevie Nicks-like edge, but most hover around Margo Timmins, from Cowboy Junkies, after an Ambien, some warm milk, and a good hard stare at a swinging gold watch.

My least favorite song on the album is probably the best. It’s called, sigh, Diet Mountain Dew, and it has cheeky lyrics and what passes on Born To Die for a rhythm section. But Del Rey sings it in a babyvoice falsetto that grates. When did Hipster Paris Hilton become a thing? She does it more, to slightly better effect, on Off To The Races, which has such a bouncy chorus you can practically see a ball skipping across the lyrics.

I always end these reviews by stating the highlight, which requires that I find one. I suppose that would have to be the infamous Video Games, which she performed to no avail on SNL. It’s hilarious, with dramatic strings swelling in the background, while Del Rey sings about unrequited love, or at least the frustrating love that happens while a girl’s boyfriend would rather play video games than watch her text and look at shoes on Tumblr while she ignores him.

Grade: D+

Craig Finn, Clear Heart Full Eyes

Craig Finn is following the Bruce Springsteen model of solo albums, which is apt; his band, The Hold Steady, is so influenced by Springsteen’s E-Street Band, it verges on tribute. Like Springsteen, Craig views his solo effort as an opportunity for introspection. I’m happy to report that this does not mean Finn has turned out a somber navel-gazer. Instead, it’s an heartfelt mix of folk, gospel and classic rock, featuring new sounds for Finn, but never straying so far from The Hold Steady that it sounds like a side project. Clear Heart Full Eyes belongs to the same family of albums as The Hold Steady’s catalog. Does it stake its own claim as a necessary work? I’m not sure. It’s certainly a lot of fun, but how much different it is than a Hold Steady album that might have come out in its place is hard to gauge. But while The Hold Steady has a jangly barband aesthetic, Craig Finn solo is calmer, like maybe he won’t spit as much in concert as he does on his regular gig. You’ll still be at the bar, but instead of raising your glass, sweating, and singing along, you’ll be in a corner with a friend, in one of those addictive conversations that gets funnier and louder as last call approaches. Clear Heart Full Eyes is the sound of figuring out if anyone still sells pizza after 2 a.m.

New Friend Jesus is an upbeat Americana number, and aside from a few sarcastic line readings, barely secular. Religion and mortality come up a few times on Clear Heart Full Eyes, mostly tongue-in-cheek, but noticeably part of a tradition as well. Going solo has allowed Finn to explore a sound verging on Bluegrass, and he treats it with respect even while giving a nod to the fact that he doesn’t fully fit into that world.

The album follows a pattern of sorts, splitting its time between those old-time religion sing-alongs, Alt-country flavored ballads (some, like Terrified Eyes, seem tailor-made for two-stepping), and songs you’d be hard pressed to tell from Hold Steady outtakes. I’m fine with all three, frankly, if none necessarily justify giving the rest of the band a break. The best of the lot is No Future. Finn takes a pessimistic look back, at the version of ourselves we leave in small towns, and the versions that go back, either victorious, or defeated. It’s like if Young Adult were a song. “One thing’s for certain: the devil’s a person. I met him at the Riverside Perkins.” I wanted to hear more about what went down at Perkins all those years ago. And besides that, is Perkins open at two in the morning? We should get pie.

Grade: B