They’re not playing an “ironic” type of barroom rock, they’re doing it the way it’s meant to be done, albeit with an English degree. On Separation Sunday, The Hold Steady makes a rowdy happy hour ruckus, but sacrifices nothing in the way of cleverness or intelligence. With some beefy power chords and greasy Hammond B-3, The Hold Steady plays good old fashioned rock `n’ roll without pretense, leaving only one truly awesome rock album. And The Hold Steady is better.įollowing up last year’s debut, Almost Killed Me, the NYC quintet channels the blue collar stadium rock of Bruce Springsteen and the punk-inspired chaos of The Replacements on Separation Sunday. You know why? Because The Hold Steady is louder. If you abuse a pretty ballad to show off your stereo, you’re going to have to face New York’s rockingest combo. That motherfucker is going to have to do battle with The Hold Steady. But should this become a daily occurrence, I’m arming myself.
I can put up with it when it’s only three minutes a week. But still, I am forced to listen to James Mercer’s falsetto at an ungodly volume, coupled with drunken reverberating chit-chat, more often than I would care to. Dre treatment? It’s not even a party song.
Personally, I believe that the more people that love The Shins, the better.
It would be much worse, had I actually shared a wall with this obnoxious specimen, but hearing it from across the courtyard is no less irritating. Thanks to the success of Garden State, one of my neighbors has been inspired to blast The Shins’ “New Slang” from his stereo at least once a week.
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