So full of varied characters is Faith in the Future that listening to its tracks in succession feels like peering into the rooms of a 10-storey tower block. Written after his mother’s death, the Hold Steady frontman’s second solo venture is laden with existentialism and quiet consideration. His empathetic songwriting evokes in great detail his varied subjects’ emotions, from the lonely 40-something prepping himself for a gig on Going to a Show (“I try so hard not to talk to myself but it’s hard cos I’m always alone”); a science professor surrounded by diagrams on Roman Guitars; a longing, lovesick fool on Christine; the numb, overly medicated Sandra from Scranton. It’s the romance, warmth and gentle quirks of its orchestration – the drunken brass, the grizzled guitars and the nervous dusting of drums – that prevent the album getting overwhelmed by the intensity of its own neurotic narrative.
