In 2005, The Hold Steady were the right band, with the right album, at just the right time. In an indie marketplace dominated by the self-absorbed strains of emo nation and a never-ending supply of post-punk outfits pimping ‘80s nostalgia, The Hold Steady stood out with a record both decidedly Midwestern and defiantly unconcerned with anything pertaining to hipness.

What Green Day’s American Idiot does in exploring the political landscape, that disc, Separation Sunday, does for the personal. A bona fide album in the age of iTunes, Sunday chronicles a ragged evening of pitstops and remembrances between a narrator and a born-again Catholic school drop-out named Hallelujah. As memories, regrets and recriminations pour forth, the record dizzily shifts between high-octane riffage and Springsteenesque emotional gravity, all with the reckless abandon of the Replacements at their height.