• Interviews

• All
• Music
• Cinema
• TV
• Comic Books

Apr 09, 2025 By Kyle Mullin Photography by Dan Monick

Craig Finn does everything from spoken word to singing and holding high notes on his newly released sixth solo album, Always Been (out now on Tarmac and Thirty Tigers). The fact that he pushes himself as a singer on standout track “A Man Needs a Vocation” may come as a surprise to the fans of his legendary indie rock band The Hold Steady. That’s because he has long been known for working elaborate lyricism and a heartfelt delivery into the limits of his voice.

As he puts it more bluntly during a recent interview with Under the Radar: “I’m singing pretty well, for me.”

He felt emboldened because of his longtime friend and new collaborator and producer Adam Granduciel. The frontman of beloved indie rockers The War on Drugs lent the same type of wildly unleashed guitar and romanticized retro keys that made their songs like “Red Eyes” such major hits onto the tunes Finn had written for Always Been. Contributions from Drugs bassist David Hartley and guitarist Anthony LaMarca, along with Canadian indie rock royalty Kathleen Edwards, all provided an exciting new palette well past Finn’s comfort zone.

Below he tells us more about striving musically while The War on Drugs had his back, delving deeper than ever with his lyricism, and the funniest heckle he’s ever been given about his—admittedly limited, but rich in character—voice.

Kyle Mullin (Under the Radar): You’ve said that this is your most narrative album yet. How so?

I’ve always written in characters. But the first song I wrote for this record is “Bethany.” It’s also the first song on the album. And it’s about a guy who becomes a priest or a pastor, without actual faith in God. He did it just so he could have a job. And the respect in the community that a pastor gets. This song finds him after a fall from grace. He lost his wife, lost his church, his congregation, and was kind of wandering around trying to figure out what happened and what’s next. I had a lot of empathy for this guy who I’d been thinking a lot about. I mean for one, I’m interested in the idea of a mortal man standing up and representing the divine. It’s a rich place. But also because we are flawed, all of us.

I just sort of saw this guy. And kept writing stories about him. The next song on the record is “People of Substance.” It’s about the same guy talking to his ex-wife about how he’s not depressed anymore, except for this, this, and this, this [counts on his fingers comically].

And then the third one’s “Crumbs,” which is about when he goes and stays with his sister after he’s kicked out of his parents’ summer house. Not every song is about this guy. That’s the tricky thing. But most of them are. At least seven of them are. Four of them aren’t. But the other ones kind of take place in this same world. I kind of compared that to a Rocky and Bullwinkle cartoon. But my manager said that’s not very hip, that I should say maybe Pulp Fiction. But either apply. There are these capsule episodes within the record.

But the biggest thing is that I wrote and wrote and wrote and wrote about this guy in this situation. I wrote prose to flesh out in my mind what happened with him. I’ve developed the characters more, and so I felt like it was a better and more rich story than any of my others.

I can certainly hear that on a number of the songs. Though you referenced funny cartoons like Rocky and Bullwinkle, I find the album’s humor much more subtle than slapstick. For example, I laugh every time I hear your line in “The Man I’ve Always Been” about a guy in a grocery aisle confused by so many types of juice. Or on “Shamrock” where a wine bar waitress makes jokes about mouthfeel.

Yeah, a song appeals to me if there’s some part that at least makes me smile. When I look back on my favorite songwriters, most of them are funny in some way. Whether it’s Dylan, or Chuck Berry, or Mick Jagger, or Springsteen. There are very few songwriters I love that don’t have some funny lines.

That sentiment is true even for your new album’s more poignant songs like “Fletcher’s.” I love the lines: “The bars had been ‘whatever.’ We shouldn’t have even bothered” and how your protagonist woke up “still wearing my wristband. Which always makes it worse.” And when you talk about this being your most narrative album, that song certainly stands out as a prime example.

The character in that song is young. In his 20s. At least younger than the other people on the record. I think that’s a funny age, because it feels harrowing when you’re in it. Then you look back from my age, and see a bit of misguided confidence. And you see someone still trying to figure things out as a young adult. They have money enough to buy some drinks, or get gas to go across town, but not tons of agency in the big picture.

It’s also obviously more spoken than sung. I’ve done a few of those on the last few records, where you can really get into the characters. That song very much deals with someone who wants things, who wants to leave town. Then all their problems would be solved. And not knowing that their problems will come with them. That’s a bit of a theme on the record. Even for the guy who becomes a priest—he moves around a lot too, and also tries on different uniforms. He’s a serviceman, a priest, a teacher, a waiter. But what he keeps finding, in the end, is you have to love yourself and not the uniform. Or the place you’re renting an apartment in.

That theme shines through powerfully. So how did your collaborators from The War on Drugs help in that regard? I find some of their solos work like punctuation for key lyrics. On “Fletcher’s” there are high pitched key notes in line with the angst the protagonist is expressing, almost like the most melodramatic moment of an ’80s movie’s soundtrack. But in a good way, of course.

Yeah, Adam Granduciel produced the record, and was the main collaborator. I’ve known him a long time. He’s a friend. I know his method is to make a lot of music, and kind of go on a journey with sound. Then come to songs. And I think in that process, from what he’s told me, tempos can change, feels can change, and he might do a lot of tracks before he finally gets to the place he wants to be. Then the lyrics tend to come later in the process.

I am the opposite. I’m like: “I have two chords, and a story.” So I thought if we worked together, we could meet in the middle, and it might be interesting. That was really fruitful. I’m really happy with how it went. He is a great listener, and he brought his bandmates to play on it too. They seemed to really understand my goal is always to serve up the story in a memorable way. Which can include things like you’re talking about.

So I remember thinking, when we were working on “Fletcher’s,” we needed a motif, almost like from a hip hop song. Adam understood that right away, and so he came up with that descending chord progression. Then we repeat it, to give the song a little more levity.

Now that I’m doing press for the record, it’s making me reflective. You know, you hear about rock history, the “ones that were really tough to make.” And actually this was the opposite. We worked really well together, and there wasn’t a lot of struggle. The communication was good. Some of that’s due to Adam being in his 40s, and I’m in my 50s. Also there was just two of us there most of the time, rather than a lot of bodies offering opinions. We both have made a lot of records, know what we want, and we’re able to just lay it out in a way that was really satisfying to both of us.

I’m really happy to hear that. So you and Adam were friends and wanted to work together for a long while?

Well, in ’09, The Hold Steady took The War on Drugs on their first U.S. tour. We’ve been friends since then. They were a three piece when we took them on tour. Not the juggernaut they’ve become. It’s been fun to watch them grow. To win Grammys. I went to see them play at Madison Square Garden! And through all that, to remain friends and always admire his work and the sounds that Adam has gotten to, has been amazing.

So I thought it would be cool to work together. I’d also made a lot of records in a row with Josh Kaufman, the producer who incidentally played on some War on Drugs records. He may have planted the seed for us to collaborate. Because of the reasons I said earlier, that we come at lyrics from such a different place, so he thought it might be an interesting collaboration.

I was out in LA and stopped by Adam’s studio to ask if he wanted to produce the record. He asked if I had songs. And I said: “Definitely,” then picked up the guitar and played “Bethany,” which is the first song in the record. And he was like: “Alright, can you come back in two weeks?” I went back to New York, then came back to LA, and we started recording. We were all happy with what we got, and decided it was worth pursuing as a full record. And it worked out really well, I thought.

I also knew he had a lot of joy around equipment and recording sounds. So I suspected that it might be interesting for him to do that without the pressure of his own band, especially after all the success they’ve had. It might be just like: “Hey, man. Do you just want to, like, make some stuff? And rather than start with a blank page, I’ve actually got these songs that I’ve written that are, you know, structured enough that we can hang sounds on them in a cool way.”

Dave [Hartley, bassist] and Anthony [LaMarca, guitarist] from The War on Drugs were there on the first session and contributed there, then continued to contribute remotely. And Adam really seemed to have good ideas about people, to have a Rolodex in his head about who would be good for which part. Which was cool to watch. He’s very thoughtful about that kind of thing. Because of the time difference, I’d wake up back in New York to texts where he’d have ideas about this part or that. It’s flattering to know someone who’s so talented and so successful is thinking about your work while you’re asleep!

Speaking of the other people on the album: I’m Canadian, so I love Kathleen Edwards. How did you end up bringing her on as a singer?

I’ve been a fan of Kathleen for a long time too. I met her at a festival in Philadelphia where we were both playing. Later I played my song, “Shamrock,” which ended up on the record. And she was like: “That’s a great song.” Coincidentally, she’s friends with Adam too, and was in Los Angeles doing some recording of her own. She’d asked to come see Adam’s studio, and we got her on the track. It sounded so good, so we kept sending her more songs. She became a friend, and I actually toured with her in September over in Europe.

So she handles all the female vocals on the record? On “Fletcher’s,” is Kathleen singing as the character with the sparkly heels?

That is Kathleen. She doesn’t sing much, but she’s very much there in that song. All the female voices on the record are hers, and the other male voices are either David or Adam from The War on Drugs. But yeah, Kathleen’s great. And in May we’re doing a show here in New York where it’s going to be everyone who played on the record, and some other friends. It’s gonna be a big night for me.

[Googling the show details] I see you’ve got Josh Kaufman on the bill as well.

Yeah, and Joe Russo’s gonna play drums. It’ll be a big, lots of moving parts, one night only kind of band. Everyone involved is so busy, but it’s nice to be able to bring people there to at least capture it for one night.

And I see you’re opening for Bob Mould on his new tour?

Yep. He’s a hero of mine. I grew up in Minneapolis, and would go see Hüsker Dü when I was in high school. I’ve been a fan ever since. Over the years I’ve gotten to know him a little bit, but I’ve never toured with him. So it’s a bucket list thing for me. It’ll just be me and another musician playing as a duo. I think I’ll enjoy playing quietly, because Bob famously plays with so much volume, and it’s such a big rock show. I’m not gonna try to match that. I’ll invite people into the show, and let Bob ramp it up.

Will you do “Fletcher’s” live? If so, how will you remember all that dense lyricism?

It’s a lot to remember, but people really like songs like that. And it’s nice to have a spoken song in the set. If you rehearse it enough, the muscle memory takes over. It’s weird, but I guess rappers do it too, right? You can turn off your mind and sort of just channel the story. I have a spoken-song from a couple records ago, “God in Chicago,” that I play live and it goes over well. My neural pathways have just connected for it.

We talked a little bit about how The War on Drugs help to push things sonically. But I’m also looking at the album as a fan of The Hold Steady. Like on “A Man Needs a Vocation,” I find that you’re stepping up in terms of how you sing, holding notes longer and reaching for more melodies that you did in Steady. Can you tell me a little bit about that?

I don’t know if I was just particularly comfortable with the key that song was in, but I felt I could sing it a little easier. Or sing it, as you mentioned, more than I normally do on The Hold Steady or my solo work.

Dave [Hartley] kept in touch throughout the making of the album through the Dropbox that we were sharing files on and whatnot. That song really spoke to him, and he came up with some of that really great stacked harmonies that you hear, which really lift the whole thing up [raises palms upward to mime lifting]. So I’m singing pretty well, for me. But, you know, he’s also doing a lot to support it. He’s a massively talented bass player and musician in general, and a great singer. Making this record put me in touch with how talented he is. It was him and Adam and a different drummer who opened for The Hold Steady in ’09. So he’s been there the whole time, and you see what a huge part of it he is.

When, when you say “I’m singing well, for me,” it reminds me years ago of interviewing Kris Kristofferson. He told me a story about having a cold before performing, and being self-conscious about it. And Willie Nelson was there and reassured him: “Nobody’s going to notice.”

Ha!

To me, his voice is actually really beautiful. I’ve always been drawn to singers like him, or Bob Dylan, or yourself. I don’t want to hear someone who can just hit notes technically. I like a voice with character, and not—

—Like Celine Dion? Not to pick on a Canadian.

[Laughs] Exactly.

You know, one of my favorite heckles I’ve ever gotten was right when The Hold Steady got started. We were opening for a bigger band. We were doing a slower song, and I “sang” [uses air quotes] the first verse, then there was an instrumental break. And this guy toward the front goes: “Okay, why don’t we try singing the second verse?’” I stopped and I started laughing.

[Laughs] So considering all that, when you push your voice on “A Man Needs a Vocation,” is there a bit of a thrill? Or maybe also some hesitation?

I wouldn’t say it’s a hesitation. When I was writing that song, I think it’s the second or third chorus, there’s a part that’s more melodic than the stuff I’m known for. So I was more like: “Cool, we’re getting somewhere.”

One of the things about doing solo records that is exciting for me is changing up the people you play with from project to project. You really learn a lot, and you push yourself a lot. And it’s a way to get better. That’s not just exciting for me— it’s an important way to stay alive. You know, personal growth, like, in whatever area.

For example: I just went downhill skiing with my father, who’s 80. We go every year. And I was like, “This is how I want to be. Not just physically but mentally moving enough so that I’m still alive.” As I get older, I think more about that. “How am I growing?”

I’m just speculating, but: when you tour and you’re playing songs over and over again, does there need to be something else like you’re describing to keep things fresh?

I think about The Hold Steady. We’re like 21, 22 years into it. And most nights we play “Stuck Between Stations,” for instance. That’s a song that the fans want to hear. So you play it. And I love that song, so I have no problem playing it. But your mind might not be as engaged as if you’re playing a song that no one’s heard before. Because you’re trying to remember it, so your awareness is heightened a little bit. That’s a good feeling, too.

When you play a hit or a fan favorite, you might be taking some of the excitement from the crowd. But the part where you might be most elated during the set is when you pulled off a song that you only played once at soundcheck, and you’re worried that it’s gonna fall flat.

When it doesn’t fall flat, you feel amazing.

www.craigfinn.net

Subscribe to Under the Radar’s print magazine.

Support Under the Radar on Patreon.