The Hold Steady's Boys And Girls In America is the New York meta-bar-band's third album in as many years. Like 2004's Almost Killed Me and 2005's Separation Sunday, it's a rollicking record about growing up and getting high in Minneapolis, and about how rock 'n' roll can make bad ideas sound great. The band's co-leaders, Craig Finn and Tad Kubler—who've been musical partners since their days in the Minneapolis cult act Lifter Puller—recently spoke with The A.V. Club about how they work together, why they can't stop singing about kids getting high, and why some critics absolutely hate them.
The A.V. Club: Boys And Girls In America has a theme, but not a concept. Is that right?
Craig Finn: Exactly. The title comes from Jack Kerouac: "Boys and girls in America have such a sad time together." That was the jumping-off point. But when we started writing, I thought, "You know, if I make a concept record again, I'm going to have to make one every time out, for the rest of my life." So this time, we did things a little different.
Tad Kubler: This is also, I think, one of the most personal records I've ever heard Craig write, whether he'd admit that to anyone else or not. There were times I remember listening to the lyrics and thinking, "Oh shit. I guess that's one way to handle it." [Laughs.] It's Boys And Girls In America, and that's kind of what it's about. Probably the largest theme in the history of rock 'n' roll.
AVC: Craig does revisit some old characters.
CF: Yeah, but not a lot. "First Night" is a fully extended window into Separation Sunday. It keeps alive the idea that I could pick up that story again if I wanted to. But it's just sort of that song. It gives the fans something, because everyone wants to hear what happens next. That's why I started using characters in the first place, because I'd hear songs by Bruce Springsteen or Bob Dylan when I was younger, and hear references to these seemingly real people, like Wendy in "Born To Run," and I'd think, "Wow, I'd like to know a little more about her."
AVC: Is there a song in particular that really challenged you as a guitarist?
TK: "Citrus." I was listening to a lot of Nick Drake and other older, more acoustic guitar players, and the song started out as an exercise, trying to get better at a guitar style I wasn't necessarily really comfortable with. My daughter really liked it. She's totally fascinated with music. When we walk around New York, if there's somebody in the park playing saxophone, she goes crazy in her stroller until I stop. So "Citrus" was kind of a song that I wrote for her. I remember, I showed it to Craig, and I was like, "Dude, I wrote this for my daughter, so can you not make this about some girl that's a junkie and dies?" [Laughs.] And he followed that out, and I thank him for that.
AVC: How old's your daughter?
TK: She's 2. A little Petri dish. The only time I'm not sick is when I'm on tour. She's super-social and we live in New York, so God knows what she's got right now. My girlfriend freaks out like she's got leukemia or something. I'm like, "Chill out, it's a fucking fever!"
AVC: You're out there playing these songs about destroyed American youth. Do you look at your daughter and think about what she might have to go through when she gets older?
TK: Yeah, but I think every parent does, right? A friend of mine has a kid who's 18, and he's like, "God, I busted my kid smoking weed yesterday." And I was like, "What did you do?" And he's like, "I didn't do anything! Thank God it's just weed!" And another friend, his kid's got ADD or something, and he's fuckin' up in school, and I'm like, "Can't you get medication for that?" And he's like, "Well, he's 14 now, and he's probably about to get into street drugs, and I don't want to throw anything else into the mix if I really don't have to."
AVC: Do you think you'll be more protective, or will you be the kind of parent who lets his kids experience all the rough stuff that everyone has to go through?
TK: I don't know. I don't even like to think about that. I'm pretty protective, I think, but at the playground, I'll let her play and shit. I've got to let her get hurt. Hopefully it isn't too severe, but the only way she's going to figure out that she's not big enough yet to swing across the monkey bars is if I let her fall. Thank God there's sand, and it's not that high up. But how do you know your coffee's too hot? You put it to your mouth.
AVC: Craig, why the continued fascination with drugs and strung-out teens?
CF: Can't get enough. [Laughs.] That's just sort of what I write about, these highs and lows, and how people get through life. And that's kind of what rock 'n' roll is about to me, this American teenage experience. From Chuck Berry to Bruce Springsteen… although Springsteen actually writes more about adults now. Maybe it's nostalgia on my part, but it's also trying to explain what's special about that time, now that you can see the forest for the trees, looking back 15 years. I think, quite honestly, the reality is that drugs and alcohol are a part of that experience for a majority of people, in some way. Not to the point of addiction or anything, but most people have it as a part of growing up, in their life or a friend's life.
AVC: You've said in the past that what the characters do in your songs isn't necessarily what you did when you were young, but more what you saw.
CF: Yeah, I mean, I was interested in rock 'n' roll right away, so getting into a punk-rock scene early, there's a lot going on. And then there's also high-school stuff. Kids getting high in the parking lot. Keg parties. Pretty all-American, but still about getting fucked up.
AVC: Did you participate?
CF: Not any more or less than most people.
AVC: All The Hold Steady records indicate that rock 'n' roll played a huge part in your collective boyhood. Do you have any specific memory of a moment when rock made an impact on your life?
TK: Well, I grew up across the street from the daughter of Ken Adamany, who in the '70s and '80s was Cheap Trick's manager. So my first exposure to music was meeting Rick Nielsen when I was about six. Also, a lot of the kids in the neighborhood I grew up in were a few years older than I was, and I'd go watch them play with their bands in their basements. They did Black Sabbath and Van Halen covers, shit like that. I was always borrowing their Judas Priest records, and Queen and Triumph and AC/DC. Right off the bat, rock 'n' roll played a huge part in who I hung out with and what my life involved. It's been downhill ever since, I suppose. [Laughs.]
AVC: Was being a rock guy about separating yourself from the crowd?
TK: No, it was about being with the kids I wanted to run around with. Also, there was always music in my house. My parents liked Jim Croce, The Beatles, Bob Seger, Willie Nelson, Waylon Jennings, stuff like that. Music was always at the forefront, even when I was just a passenger. So hanging around with these other kids in bands just seemed like what you did. Like BMX racing, or skateboarding.
CF: I got into punk rock, and most specifically local punk rock, the first time I heard The Replacements. I got Hootenanny, and it was just great. They were mentioning streets that I knew very well in Minneapolis, and I couldn't believe that someone in my own city was making music like this. It was my first exposure to the possibilities of rock 'n' roll. Maybe not in the grand way, but in the small way. It seemed like you didn't have to be from Los Angeles to make a rock record. It sounds simple, but that's probably something I didn't literally know at that point.
AVC: Were you playing music back then?
CF: Nah. I was taking guitar lessons. [Laughs.] This is seventh grade I'm talking about. I didn't have a band or anything. But it all seemed possible at that point, where maybe it didn't before.
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