OK. So the Voice is high as hell on them, and the effin New Yorker threw them a killer party. So what? We're not ready for the backlash. We want to get up to our necks in sweat and wet confetti with Craig Finn and his Brooklyn bar band altar boys. He's a very crazy man, man. And his lyrics, they're all nutso word jumbles on Catholicism and drugs and pop culture and more drugs. So, so many drugs. Honestly. Pump his stomach. But we're tired of living vicariously. We want to match Finn drink-for-drink, drug-for-drug, resurrection-for-resurrection. Here's the plan.
Drink if:
Craig Finn implores you to hold steady ("All you sniffling indie kids, hold steady!")
Finn mentions a saint ("I guess Santa Ana saved me. St. Peter had me on the queue. The St. Paul saints they waved me through.")
Someone gets bruised ("This chick she looked just like Elizabeth Shue. We got bruised.")
Finn alludes to getting born again — drink twice if he mentions it outright ("I was half dead. Then I got born again.")
Finn namechecks Gideon, Jackie Onassis or your Little Hoodrat Friend ("The gin was just like Gideon.")
You perceive a genuine Charlemagne in Sweatpants situation
The Old Testament gets a shout-out ("I heard the dude blamed the chick. I heard the chick blamed the snake.")
Finn gets sorta clever in decrying cleverness ("Hey my name is Corey. I'm really into hardcore. People call me hard Corey. Don't you hate these clever people and all these clever people parties?")
Finish your drink if:
Finn mentions tallboy cans ("Went down on the tallboy cans and he woke up in a cargo van.")
Do coke if:
Finn wrestles with nomenclature — do two lines if it's his own ("I've been trying to get people to call me Sunny D. I've got the good stuff kids go for. People keep calling me Five Alive.")
You've ever been to Ybor City ("Ybor City is tres speedy but they throw such killer parties.")
Antonyms are juxtaposed in a caring way ("A real soft girl who's having real hard times.")
A religious figure disses the '80s ("We heard the deacon's hopeful eulogy. At least in dying you don't have to deal with new wave for a second time.")
Snort a line of Feminax if:
Someone misuses a substance ("Mary's got a bloody nose from sniffing margarita mix.")
Finn makes you reconcile unlike denominators as they relate to degrees of nudity ("She was shaky but still trying to shake it. Half naked and three quarters wasted. She was completely alone.")
Finn reminds you of Mitch Hedberg ("They made a movie about me and you. It was half nude and half true.")
You catch a Star Wars reference ("I did a couple favors for some guys who looked like Tuscan Raiders.")
You're ordered to pray for something you'd have to Google to understand ("Say a prayer for the Cityscape Skins. Half are getting sprung and half are going back in.")
Finn gives us a shout-out ("Philly is full of friendly friends that will love you like a brother.")
If the person next to you is singing along louder than you (Don't sweat it, you're still a bigger fan.)
That should get you through the first song. After that, you just kind of wing it.
The Hold Steady, Thu., May 26, 9 p.m., $10-$12, with Eugene Mirman and Langhorne Slim, The North Star, 2639 Poplar St., 215-684-0808, www.northstarbar.com.
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