I used to be a rock writer on a much more regular basis. I got piles of promo CDs in the mail to review, and I was far more involved with the new music that came out.
These days, well, politics (and comics) take up much of my time, and communications theory takes up the rest. I don’t see nearly enough movies, and I miss that rush that comes with discovering a new band, the thrill of a truly great song.
I don’t have a top ten list for the year–I don’t think I even bought ten albums that came out this year. I revisited the past a good bit (hello, The Smiths binge), and I mixed the soundtrack to my life out of the music I already had.
I did pick up a few great records. TV on the Radio, “Dear Science” and Santogold’s self-titled record. Hell, I even liked Scarlett Johansson’s Tom Waits covers.
But I realized the other day that there’s really only one album that is truly associated with this year in my head.
The Hold Steady, “Stay Positive.”
Ironically, recommended to me by a friend whom I often criticize for being too negative, this record is a breath of uncynical love–the band’s MySpace page bills them as “a joyful noise” and it’s true. They’re completely devoid of obnoxious rock star posturing, even at their most anthemic (”Constructive Summer” was indeed the soundtrack to the best summer I’ve had in a really long time).
I joked that this might be the first Obama-era album, but it’s really more than that for me. It’s my hopeful record–one I downloaded on a whim off eMusic and burned to a CD and listened to over and over again in the car until my sister and her boyfriend wanted to kill me. It’s got all the dreams of months spent split between the campaign trail, the university, and running around New York City in as little clothing as I could legally wear to keep the sweat to a minimum.
There’s as much Bruce Springsteen story-of-America love in this record as there is punk rock (”Raise a toast to saint Joe Strummer/I think he might have been our only decent teacher”). The songs are about love and loss and friends and beer, sex and nightclubs and getting older and the things that still matter no matter how much of the scene we outgrow. They’re loaded with deliciously specific details and beautifully universal lyrics that cut to the core and leave visuals that linger for days (”Now I’m not really sure we were lovers/Or if it was just some kind of car crash,” “If I cross myself when I come/Would you maybe believe me?”).
There’s an elegiac tone in this record, a bit of mourning for a lost youth, but at the same time an embrace of the things that really, deep-down-in-your-bones matter. And a way to look forward, get older, and actually do something with yourself.
Writing about rock can kill the pure joy of it, but sometimes it’s so good that I just have to spill all over the page about it. I don’t know if this is the best album that came out in 2008, but it’s the one that most embodies 2008 for me.
(And if you don’t love them too after this song, you have no soul. It’s the truth.)
(And if you don’t love them too after this song, you have no soul. It’s the truth.)
You’re awesome when you preach gospel.
Rawk. \m/
I keep hearing about this band. I’m going to have buy the album just to see why everyone loves them so much.