The Hold Steady - Thrashing thru the Passion(unpublished)
(this was an unused review for TMT in 2019, not sure why but maybe it’s actually pretty bad, lmk)
How much can you rely on what was before? Are you stuck to a process? Similarity can breed contempt, you know. I’m concerned the Hold Steady doesn’t know what year it is. Sometimes there’s a payoff to turning back the clock, but this is not one of those times. Have we still wrought this kind of navel-gazing? You have to wonder what makes people so content to readily bring an idealized version of culture from the past to the present. It could be simplicity. It could be lack of creativity. But oftentimes, it’s merely comfort. That sweet, unlimited resource gathering steam in our hearts, unbothered by the non-normative impulse. I don’t care how people react, as long as I like it.
Looking back at the history of rock, it’s a calcified pattern in terms of relevance and revenance.
Generally speaking:
50s: rock n’ roll and sanitized rock n’ roll
60s: girl groups, British Invasion, psychedelic rock
70s: singer-songwriter, punk, disco
80s: New Romantic, house, post-punk
90s: grunge, techno, post-rock
2000s: indie, EDM, mallcore
So what does the Hold Steady fit into? What is their goal in terms of worship? They don’t fit neatly into any of the categories I messily defined. They’re a concept that belies the imagination of the classic rock band slathered with a new coat of paint, decades after the supposed movement that birthed that sound. Is it revivalism when there’s no discernable metric to evaluate their music on? It’s a sham to base a music on an imagined sense of the past, trapping the listener in a loop of brainwashed symbolism.
In essence, Thrashing Thru the Passion is a sonic embellishment. It postures as an earnest rock record, recalling the trappings of the albums that have come before it. This process just doesn’t work in an age where even the most green of listeners can detect a false pretense in the music at hand. Who has the sheer interest in craving this kind of art? Does there exist a Gen X core that craves radio-ready indie rock, without the brash cojones needed in any sort of genre icon? Tom Verlaine and Frank Black would be so sad if they knew.
This derelict release calls into question Simon Reynolds’ legendary Retromania as a counterpoint towards its thesis of calling back the past in trying to discover the new. Because while there may be no future in sight, the past shows itself as a decrepit corpse not to be emulated. If this is the Hold Steady’s modus operandi, well done. You have shown the new generation that risk-taking is a venture worth pursuing, and that fetishizing Bruce Springsteen leads to artistic suicide.