With all due respect to the Boss, the Hold Steady are the new Bruce Springsteen. By masterfully depicting and living the dreams of millions of music lovers, they've managed to craft their own brand and become the new spokesband for the middle class. They write sing-along anthems tailored to amp up the enthusiasm of a crowd whose drink of choice is a double whiskey, Coke, no ice,"" which is an undeniably vast reservoir of listeners.
By now everyone should know what they're going to get at a Hold Steady show: beer, sweat, yelling, dancing and a palpable aura of sheer glee. But what's so remarkable is their natural ability to create a ""unified scene."" Wilco does well at merging older and younger listeners, but, so far as I can tell, the only place where two strangers - one a teenager in a pastel polo, the other a middle-aged bald guy in a Dinosaur Jr. T-shirt - regularly grab hold of each other and yell along with every lyric is when they're treading through a sea of other unlikely (and even sweatier) pairings, raising their fists towards the world's best bar-time storyteller.
The Hold Steady have a penchant for touring with quality openers, from the Thermals to Art Brut. This show was no different, featuring a group fronted by three cute girls singing songs that sound like a cross between the Pipettes and Blondie. They wore matching yellow dresses as if they were on their way to prom but then told the driver, ""Screw it, let's go on tour instead."" The problem is I don't know what their name is. Neither did the guy working the door, and it's still not listed on the Majestic's Web site. And unfortunately, that's more or less indicative of how the venue presented itself all night.
But it would take more than a few disgruntled employees and shaky sound quality to ruin an evening with the Hold Steady. They're not your typical energetic live act: They manage to engage the crowd in their enthusiasm from onstage without using props or stage diving. Though they're a bar band at heart, their sound is big enough to fill any arena, especially the Majestic.
There truly was no one moment that stood out from the set. That being said, it could not have been further from mundane or redundant. They preach about idols like Saint Joe Strummer in their songs, and they continue to take his lead. The Hold Steady have made the most cynical of cynics believers in rock 'n' roll, if for no other reason than proving that it is truly ageless.
In reality, though, I've probably jumped the gun: The Gaslight Anthem is the new Springsteen. They're a virtual carbon copy of early '70s Boss; but his transcendent value - his falcon's clutch on listeners, relentless on-stage swagger and unforgiving awesomeness, the kind of package that goes beyond record sales and perpetually sells out uncomfortable stadiums with overpriced tickets - is only ever approached by the Hold Steady. You could set your watch to the voracity of each and every show they play; just make sure you catch them while they only cost $17.
