Song #45: Neko Case - Hold On, Hold On (off Fox Confessor Brings the Flood - 2006)
Traditionally, all I ask of my friends for my birthday is a mixed CD. My friends are mostly students, and therefore mostly poor, and a mix is one way of guaranteeing that they’ll expend at least half an hour’s worth of energy on my gift. Being a broke student myself, I return the favour. Any birthday to which I’m invited requires hours of playlisting, designing album art, shuffling and organizing. After all, I can’t give the wrong impression. No breakup songs to the boyfriend, no sexy songs to the dudes in the friend zone, no cliches and no repeats.
I made one such birthday mix this morning, and Neko Case’s Hold On, Hold On was the kickoff track. I’m not sure what guided my cursor to this song, but the instant I heard that guitar I felt lightheaded and relived all of my Neko Case memories at once.
Seeing her perform in Trinity-Saint Paul’s Church from the third pew last summer after filming a pretty okay cameo; discovering her music via my best friend from high school in 2003; being a complete ditherspaz when I met her at a New Pornographer’s show in 2005; planning to (and regretfully not following through on) seeing the John Mellencamp/Stephen King/Elvis Costello/Neko Case musical in Georgia (as an awesome acquaintance put it, “I’m never doing another musical again, because if this show exists then the medium’s never going to get any more awesome”).
I can’t deny it… I have an INTENSE girlcrush on this woman. I love her voice - there’s no other like it. It’s distinct and powerful. I would listen to her sing almost anything. I love her songwriting - but MY GOODNESS it would be depressing to be her inspiration. I love her hair - I have definite redhead envy because I tinted my hair red once and looked anemic.
Hold On, Hold On is a punch to the soul. She expresses her own fear so ably - not that she won’t be loved in return (because she knows she won’t), but that she’ll love too much. There’s no “you” or “he” in this song - she feels betrayed, but by no one but herself, which TRUST ME is the worst kind. It’s knowing what you’re getting into, and doing it anyway. You can hear the relief when she sings “I leave the party at 3 a.m. / alone, thank God” - crediting more luck than willpower.
What really gets to me is the lamenting - she looked for love in the past with many men who weren’t right, and now realizes that it was a lie to think that she’d find love if she just held on. As it happened, she either grew cold and resentful (the mean girl) or - my favourite - she was sandwiched chronologically between two girls of higher calibre (somebody’s in-between girl).
Miss Case also said in an interview with AVC that this is the only autobiographical song she’d ever written, and I think it’s evident from the waiver in her voice and the bluntness of the lyrics. I’d imagine this to be both painful and cathartic.
