My Top 22 of 2022: #3

3. Craig Finn - A Legacy of Rentals

One technique for getting a student to review a piece of creative writing is to ban them from using certain words or phrases that they fall back on, thereby forcing them to reach out and find new words, more interesting and creative ways of expressing themselves. A similar technique is used by directors. When M. Knight Shyamalan cast Bruce Willis in The Sixth Sense, he forbade him from using any “Willis-isms”. The wry smirk. The “why me?” eyes. The little ticks Bruce uses that make him Bruce. Shyamalan didn’t want that Bruce in his film. He wanted a Bruce that surprised people. And it worked, bringing out Willis’s best performance of his career… until Shyamalan took him one step further in Unbreakable.

Sorry. I went off on a tangent there. The point is, I’m trying to ban myself from using the phrase “As an English teacher…” when I write this blog. For a variety of reasons. But it’s very difficult to avoid when talking about the song-writing of Craig Finn.

Woke up in her bed to a text from a friend
It said, ‘you better come quick
There's been an accident, a crash.
They closed off the entrance ramp.
Hard to really say what might happen.’
Got out of bed and got dressed
And I gave her a kiss.
Careful so that she didn't wake.
I left her some cash just in case.
I started the car and I drove to the mini mart.
Put some gas in the tank.
Paid with the card so I wouldn't even have to say thanks.

Finn’s fifth solo album, A Legacy of Rentals, was released early this year, less than 12 months after the latest record from his band The Hold Steady. He’s a busy man. Both solo, and in his Hold Steady songs, Finn is an exceptional songwriter, a storyteller worthy of comparison to Raymond Carver, with every line meticulously crafted to show (not tell) more details about the lives of his characters. They’re a rum bunch. Addicts and drifters, desperate people clinging to the margins of society, finding little pockets of sunshine to help them keep afloat.

Rachel was practical, she always carried matches
She said she didn't have habits, they're rituals
She threw salt over her shoulder when they rang for last orders
She held her breath when she got up from the table
And it never really mattered that she was twelve years older
Except for when we talked about the 1980s
'Cause I was still showing up to Modern European History
While she was trying to hold on to her baby
She started out teasing me, calling me her partner in crime
'Cause neither one of us were supposed to be in the taverns
I had a suspended license and a court case coming up
And the judge said he was seeing some patterns
She said, "at sundown it feels like I'm riding a train I'm not on
That all-in-one sensation of speeding and sinking"
Fridays making eyes at guys cashing their checks
And other forms of magical thinking

 Part of me wants Finn to put all this amazing talent into writing The Great American Novel, but I also don’t want that to happen, for a couple of good reasons.

1) If he did, there’d be fewer songs to enjoy.

2) If he did, I’d read those words once and they’d be gone. The impact of Finn’s songwriting comes from repeated hearing. The songs – and the characters - gradually reveal themselves to the listener, and we discover new details, new emotions, new interpretations every time we put the record on. That’s why, although I bought the CD on the day it came out, back in May, I’m still listening to it now, constantly finding new details to appreciate. As an English teacher, Craig Finn makes me want to be a better writer.