How many times have people written this summer about The Hold Steady being the unexpected hits of a festival? Enough times, I guess, for the hardest-working band in showbusiness to become blase about these sort of shows. The thing is, as Craig Finn surveys the crowd with undisguised glee, itโs clear that this remarkable bandโs appetite for rockโnโroll is still heroically potent.
So here we are on that 2007 rarity, a hot summer afternoon, enjoying the Uncut-sponsored Latitude Festival (sold out, youโll note) and Uncutโs favourite band of the year ripping it up yet again. Iโll try not to be too smug from hereon in, I promise.
Because The Hold Steady certainly arenโt smug. At the end of the latest two-month stint of their neverending tour, and with thousands more UK music fans rallying to their cause with every festival that passes, Craig Finn is still palpably humbled by the adulation. Yes, he goes on again about what a privilege it is to play rock music for a living, about the positive powers of this music, and yet again, all of it seems utterly passionate and heartfelt rather than mere showbiz schtick.
Here they are again, inexhaustibly bounding about the stage, keyboardist Franz Nicolai pogoing bizarrely in a full dinner suit. And itโs impossible not to become infected by the Hold Steadyโs party-positive, pro-rock message. There are anthems and riffs and poetry and powerchords and, at the death, a transition between โSouthtown Girlsโ and โKiller Partiesโ that has an ebbing, subtle beauty that belies their guyish reputation.
There are more words in their 40 minute set than in most of the poetry performances at this exceptional festival, and probably more wisdom, too. But Iโm sure you all know that now. As ever, The Hold Steady rule.