Bro-havior

Yumi once told me that I fit almost perfectly into the definition of a term she coined, the “lesbro.” The meaning is present in the roots of the word: a lesbro is a lesbian who acts like a bro. Now, while I am not a lesbian and my so-called “bro-havior” is relative to whose company I am in, I can see where Yumi’s loose perception of who I am comes from, especially considering the fact that Yumi and I play music together and that’s the context she most frequently sees me in. I am most definitely a musical “lesbro.” 

Here’s the thing. I love the Hold Steady. Over the past year and a half my passion for them has grown steadily, much like their increasing notoriety has their shows being simulcast by NPR now. But my passion for the Hold Steady is not one that I typically care to divulge as often as cooler, more obscure or socially conscious bands, because I feel like it’s something that I perpetually have to explain. I’ve been getting the dreaded question pretty frequently recently, for some reason. Why do I love the Hold Steady? It’s not as simple as the fact that they kind of sound like Bruce Springsteen. 

I am a lesbro for the Hold Steady. Not that their music is all that misogynist, considering that big long list of all that is misogynist in rock music. Far from it. When I saw them in Prospect Park this summer there were undoubtedly just as many, if not more, women rocking out to their energetic live show as men. But the thing I appreciate most about them is that the voice they use to tell stories is masculine, but kind of a fresh take on masculinity– the high points and the pratfalls of masculinity in the context of living a specific rock’n'roll party lifestyle. And when you hear the songs, you live it too.

I totally want to live the lifestyle. But generally, I don’t think rock dudes write blogs or neurotically overanalyze and interpret music in any way past, “Can you pump your fist in the air? Yes! Okay, it’s good.”

Except the Hold Steady, who can reference having to kick it in the Chillout Tent and then namecheck poet John Berryman on the same album. Yes! 

Also, when I’m listening to the Hold Steady something happens deep, deep inside my Midwestern soul. It’s not that the subject matter lead singer Craig Finn writes about is expressly Midwestern, but the way he tells a story seems to come from down in his Minneapolis roots. They bring you into to this tiny world where you know everyone. You are introduced to a handful of characters (Halleluiah– goes by Holly, Charlemagne, Gideon) and locations (down by the Mississippi River, Penetration Park, the Chillout Tent) and then the entirety of the album plays out their stories in these places. You have to listen to the albums all the way through to discover how thoroughly these themes are explored.  The stories that he tells aren’t necessarily new or particularly all that touching, but they’re silly, kind of real, and as one review I read said, “injecting new life into old clichés.” I feel like I know these people. They exist somewhere between here and California.