Thor Christensen

Male rock singers are pretty predictable onstage. Either they're hyper preeners (à la Mick Jagger) or mysterious brooders (like Jim Morrison), but above all, they're much cooler than you are.

GUY REYNOLDS/DMN

'There is so much joy in what we do up here,' lead singer Craig Finn said during the Hold Steady's Tuesday show at the Loft.

Craig Finn of the Hold Steady is none of the above. Walking onstage Tuesday night at the Loft, the 36-year-old singer could pass for a tech-firm cubicle drone with his glasses, nondescript haircut and short-sleeve button-down shirt.

Yet from the very first power chord, he was a nerd possessed. He jabbed his finger in the air like a pretend hip-hop star and bounced nervously on his toes – part boxer, part kid who's really got to go to the bathroom.

He was having the time of his life and wasn't too hip to admit it. "There is so much joy in what we do up here," he said, beaming.

The songs were equally jubilant. Mr. Finn and guitarist Tad Kubler met in Minneapolis, and their songs recalled the scream-along punk anthems of Twin Cities legends Hüsker Dü and the Replacements. But unlike most punks, the Brooklyn-based Hold Steady loves classic rock, too.

Mr. Kubler uncorked Cheap Trick-worthy guitar solos and whipped out a double-neck red Gibson SG – an ax forever linked to Led Zeppelin's Jimmy Page. Mr. Finn, meanwhile, recalled early Bruce Springsteen with his detailed stories of rebels without a clue.

His songs felt like mini movie scripts – "We're the directors, I'll be John Cassavetes," he sang in "Slapped Actress" – and the teen stoners in his songs seemed as though they walked straight out of Richard Linklater's Dazed and Confused.

But for all his dark lyrics and druggy deadbeat characters, Mr. Finn never lost faith in rock 'n' roll as salvation.

In the title track to the latest Hold Steady CD, Stay Positive, he sang of obscure punk acts who "taught me life's most valuable lessons" and he dreamed of a day where "singalong songs will be our scriptures."

That sounds like a tall task. But as a packed club full of fans pogo-danced and sang along to his lyrics, Mr. Finn was already preaching to the converted.