Craig Finn – A Legacy Of Rentals

Craig Finn of The Hold Steady fame has somehow become one of the longest standing artists in my rotation.  As I’ve aged and found myself with less and less time to stay in touch with the music scene I’ve grown so fond of (I lovingly blame my two young kids), I’ve found myself connecting more and more with Finn’s greyscale descriptions of life’s ups and downs.  In a way, Finn has grown into his persona of a wise storyteller, having always channeled the spirit of a middle-aged storyteller even back in his early twenties.  On my approach to forty, I find myself able to connect with Finn’s sonic fictions more than ever.

Finn’s latest solo effort, A Legacy of Rentals, carries with it a weighted, cloudy air in which listeners may feel caught up in the midst of a windy gust, covering their shoulders with whatever jacket or blanket may be near.  “Somehow it feels like I’m riding a train I’m not on” opens Finn, evoking a sense of curiosity – the type that makes you look over your shoulder when a cold breeze blows against your neck.  Aside from the repetitive chorus the majority of the song exists in the realm of poetic spoken word – a cornerstone in Finn’s style. It’s like being privy to the inner ramblings of a washed up Gen X’er as they navigate the sum of past transgressions.  From descriptions of the contents of a friend’s pockets and the different cultural references that come with an age-gap, to navigating various settings and stations on the radio dial, these descriptors are the perfect bridge between the story and listeners.

Despite this unconventional start, A Legacy of Rentals actually defines itself through some fairly smooth melodies.  For instance, “The Amarillo Kid” feels remarkably lucid in approach, while “Birthdays” leverages a real commitment to vivid piano notes and dominant saxophone solos.  These moments are far from where Finn set out from when he first started his career in The Hold Steady yet he feels so at home in his solo persona, lifted from any obligation of expectation from his full band gig.  Those like “Jessamine” and “Curtis Shepard” are graceful in their delivery – seemingly simple without a sense of obligation to be what fans are expecting.  Even “A Break From The Barrage,” which exists late in the track listing and leans heavily on spoken word, has an airy chorus that floats along with the weightless aid of wispy female vocals (these vocal accompaniments come and go throughout the album).  The level of subtle give-and-take speaks to Finn’s well roundedness as a songwriter and comfort in his own skin.

The worst that can be said about A Legacy of Rentals is that it’s a relatively quiet affair – best experienced with headphones while sitting in coffee shops.  But that shouldn’t be confused with being boring – Finn’s lyrics ensure that listeners are always cognitively engaged with plenty of food for thought.

As someone who has followed Craig Finn and his various musical projects for nearly two decades, I appreciate that his maturation has mirrored that of my own.  When I listen to artists from two decades ago it’s largely for nostalgia, but Finn has managed to remain contemporarily connected.  I imagine it’s similar to those that continue to watch the same soap opera year after year, at which point the characters grow and evolve alongside them.