Review Summary: Nothing is ever as simple as it initially seems with Craig Finn.
The following make an appearance on
The Price of Progress: Robert Plant, black market cigarettes, church bells, flags made from bedsheets, LeBron James, a Skipper’s restaurant, and much more!
What do these things have in common? Probably nothing in theory, but this is simply part of Craig Finn’s genius. When he goes on a tangent, it’s a thing to behold; his unique perspectives and vocal inflections converge for an art form of their own. As the eccentric lead vocalist and songwriter of The Hold Steady for 25 years, he’s mastered the ability to turn the most ordinary day-to-day things into some sort of smoked-out philosophy – each album propping up average Joe’s as superheroes in the face of life’s darkest corners.
Ah yes, there’s a whole lot of puzzling but brilliant nonsense floating around in Finn’s head, and this is as obvious as ever on
The Price of Progress, the ninth album with his bigger-than-life bar band. This time it translates to the most structureless, bizarre set of tunes by The Hold Steady to date, reversing course from the more pop-oriented sheen of 2021’s
Open Door Policy into a more nuanced version of their signature rock and roll. Throughout the album, a generous mixture of trumpets, keys, and distorted guitars seem to be in constant rotation over Finn’s traditional spilling of the guts. Everything has a more improvisation feel to it, with several songs that are hugely ambitious but unpredictable. This is evident in the cinematic and bouncy “Sixers”, which examines someone in the throes of addiction, but not in the way you might expect. Finn and co. don’t conjure up images of a hopeless dope fiend with a needle buried in their arm. Rather, this is someone who escapes from reality, watching basketball reruns with a pill bottle companion in reach. It could be me or you. This may sound gloomy, but the constant bursts of energy throughout the song give it an optimistic and magnetic appeal.
There’s also a dark sense of humor and increased level of retrospection on
The Price of Progress. On “Understudies”, Finn touches on how his passion for playing music has taken a toll on his mental health, sounding noticeably exhausted as he croons:
it’s hard to sleep after performing. And it’s hard not to smirk amidst the harmonic “ooh-ooh’s” sung over “Sideways Skull’s” crowd-ready hook:
She’d like me better if I didn’t wear glasses. At some point, you have to stop and wonder just where Craig Finn truly ends and his quirky characters begin. There always seem to be little gems of truth buried throughout his ramblings; this is perhaps more evident than ever as the songwriter spends more time looking in the rearview mirror throughout
The Price of Progress. In a gleeful throwback, the boisterous “Flyover Halftime” resurrects a killer guitar riff from the band’s 2004 debut. It’s a joyous, no-frills rocker that reminds you why you fell in love with The Hold Steady in the first place.
Unfortunately, there are also several moments on
The Price of Progress that don’t quite land. “City at Eleven” has very little going for it, and not even Craig Finn’s lyrical finesse or charisma seem to pull their typical weight over the directionless guitars. They bend with a sleazy distortion throughout, but I’m left feeling indifferent: a rare result for any track by The Hold Steady. I have some mixed feelings about “Perdido” as well, but at least it’s a pleasant listen albeit being a tad boring. It has a lot of gentle orchestral touches and a solid atmosphere that suits a more wistful vocal performance by Finn; probably at least worth queuing up for your next long car ride.
Let me level with you: writing this review sucked. I’m not convinced I’d feel differently if I covered the band’s last album, or the one before that. Nothing is ever as simple as it initially seems with Craig Finn; his songs are lyrical Rubik’s cubes that refuse to be solved. One of the album’s most dynamic tracks, “The Birdwatchers, is a dense concoction that pairs some of the most vibrant horn sections in The Hold Steady’s history with off-kilter tempo changes and keys that must be snagged from a baby’s naptime selection. It’s without a doubt the album’s most ominous and unfamiliar tune, and I’m here for it. Despite some of its little imperfections,
The Price of Progress only solidifies the band’s position as the most philosophical and whacky dudes currently making rock music. From the slowed tempo of the cinematic opener “Grand Junction” to the animated “Sixers”, they’ve crafted some of the most unpredictable and sweeping arrangements yet. This is an odd one, folks. And like much of Finn’s work, I’ll be racking my brain on its many idiosyncrasies for the foreseeable future.
