The Hold Steady’s second album Separation Sunday provides a rich blend of songs ranging from the softer and more audibly forgiving “Don’t Let Me Explode” to the hardcore rock songs, notable for the difficulty with which they are heard, such as “Steve Nix” and “Hornets! Hornets!”  The Hold Steady has been compared to an indie version of Bruce Springsteen, and certainly their songs rival the famous musician’s own in raw talent evident within the musical soundscape of individual pieces.  All in all The Hold Steady is reminiscent of Springsteen mixed with Nirvana if either of the bands had composed songs comparable to epic poems.  The Hold Steady carries a certain air of defiance which Springsteen lacks, an edgy sound influenced by the punk bands of the 1990’s. 

            Craig Finn, the “lead” guitarist (actually more of a rhythm guitarist) is clearly the mastermind behind the band’s success and brilliant songs.  The depth of lyrical quality in the album is astonishing, as is the quality of the vocals (for entirely different reasons).  The lyrics are, undoubtedly, the reason the album scored an 8.5 of 10 on Pitchfork Media.  However, Craig Finn’s vocals are clearly not.  While the lyrics speak of redemption, Catholicism, drugs, sex, parties, car crashes, and funerals, Craig Finn spews the intricate wordplay with the elegance and finesse of a bulldozer.  This honest, blue collar, delivery of the scathing social criticism might appeal to the deaf whereas those able to enjoy the genius of The Hold Steady’s instrumental section must suffer through an intriguing, but not pleasing, rendition of what might otherwise be a truly magnificent song. 

            As for the quality of the band behind Craig Finn, it is truly remarkable.  I am fond of saying that if Angus Young were ever reincarnated as a disciple of Springsteen, he would sound just like Tad Kubler, the lead guitarist from The Hold Steady.  While Kubler grew up listening to classic rock (Queen, Cheap Trick, Led Zeppelin, etc…) Finn grew up a punk kid, and the contrasting styles are apparent in playing styles.  While Finn sounds like an eight year old with a disturbingly deep voice (and coincidentally dances like one too) Kubler remains cool and calculating while emulating his heroes on Kubler’s signature Les Paul guitar.  The characteristically deep, powerful sound of the Les Paul works to Kubler’s advantage and helps to spice up otherwise cliché riffs which he plays as if his very soul were connected to each note plucked from the air and given life in his instrument.  While the drums, bass, and keyboard are not quite as spectacular as Kubler’s guitar playing, they deserve a massive amount of credit for making Finn sound almost passable as a vocalist. 

            The album in its entirety is a truly spectacular work of art, much more than the sum of its parts.  Some songs, such as “Crucifixion Cruise” should only be listened to in the context of the album as a whole, as they are simply too sedate to do anything but provide relief from the tsunami of sound battering against one’s mind as the album builds and builds, seemingly with nowhere to go but out into the world.  “Crucifixion Cruise” especially, at a little under two minutes long, is certainly not a stand-alone work and cannot be effectively taken out of context.  It is instead intended to mirror “Don’t Let Me Explode” the two of which comprise the only breaks in the barrage of upbeat (or slightly angry) rock which characterize the album.  The tracks offer an ephemerally calm soundscape to refresh the listener for the impending finale.  These two tracks also serve as turning points in the album, the first (“Don’t Let Me Explode”) referencing the time when the speaker (who remains constant throughout the album) believes the main anti-hero (“Hallelujah, but the kids they called her Holly”) to be dead after a car crash apparent in the track “Banging Camp” and a eulogy portrayed in “Stevie Nix.” 

            Tracks like “Stevie Nix” and “How  Resurrection Really Feels” are truly intended to be listened to through poor quality (and preferably very very large) speakers, not the sort of high quality headphones I used while listening to the album.  The full effect of the music hits a person like a punch to the chest, emotionally and audibly attacking the listener from the beginning.  These songs are not intended to be easy to listen to, nor are they in the least simple songs.  The depth of lyrical storytelling alone forces a listener to concentrate and listen to the album start to finish, preferably without breaks.  The sort of classic rock anthem feel that many of the songs contain (“Banging Camp,” “Stevie Nix” and “How a Resurrection Really Feels”) is a dead giveaway to the albums main theme, duality. 

            “Banging Camp” especially, the clear standout song from the album, features the most amount of wanton debauchery and hedonism while contrasting it with euphemisms and metaphors referencing Bible passages and Catholicism.  The song’s lyrics include

I saw him at the riverbank.

He was breaking bread and giving thanks.

With crosses made of pipes and planks.

Leaned up against the nitrous tanks.

He said take a hit. Hold your breath and I'll dunk your head.

Then when you wake up again.

You'll be high as hell and born again.

Such biblical references, contrasted with descriptions of explicit and rebellious behavior, pervade the album and give voice to the dualities contained within the lyrics and the music.  The music provides an upbeat contrast to decidedly depressing or angry songs, whereas the lyrics explore deeper contrasts between death and life, disappearance and death, sobriety and drunkenness, and the stereotypical good versus evil. 

            Perhaps most refreshing about the album is its assumption of knowledge.  Without a certain amount of previous knowledge, the references of the songs are totally lost to the audience.  Although each song is uniquely exquisite in its own right and is not demeaned by a listener missing a reference or two, the songs are enhanced by an almost imponderable amount of required knowledge.  The most obvious, of course, being the bible references.  Without understanding the book of revelations (or at the very least the horsemen of the apocalypse) a listener might not understand “Cattle and Creeping Things.”  Without an understanding of pop culture, bible passages (the well-known ones), punk bands, and previous Hold Steady songs the album is not as texturally rich as one might want it to be.  Although this is a concept employed by very few bands, the results are staggering.  The songs are impressive alone in the album, but any time a listener catches a reference, they feel as if they’ve just outsmarted other listeners who might not have noticed the references.  This sense of empowerment helps to achieve the album’s goal of biting social criticism and the need of many to feel better than others.  Additionally, this is not the only Hold Steady album to employ such techniques and albums released by the band since Separation Sunday contain a multitude of references to lyrics and ideas contained in the album. 

            The Hold Steady offers a little bit for everyone with references to high culture and pop culture.  Through the use of bible passages and the recounting of sordid tales of partying Separation Sunday paints a vivid picture of a girl, Hallelujah, and her experiences as a 17 year old in the punk scene.  Although speculated to be party autobiographical, Craig Finn has not explicitly referenced such motivations for the album. Separation Sunday, after Craig Finn’s vocals, allows the band members to shine as the metaphoric sun through the curtains of Finn’s vocals.