Given their fiercely New Jerseyan identity, there you wouldn’t expect Titus Andronicus to have many connections to their home state’s more ambitious colonial sibling to the north–New England–but their rescheduled show last Sunday at The Sinclair revealed a few. Local scene stalwart Elio DeLuca joined the band on piano for a few songs, treat marking rare lineup usually reserved for studio recording sessions. Most notably, those in attendance who weren’t aware of the references in the mosh-pit ready “A More Perfect Union” to Fenway Park, Somerville, and New England, frontman Patrick Stickles made it clear by explaining the song was inspired by a previous move to the greater Boston area, one which, while apparently unsuccessful, he found to be a “pretty exciting prospect.”
Titus Andronicus might seem like a band centered around often brash tenacity, but their quieter moments are equally important. Stickles’ thin guitar strums at the start of “No Future Part Three: Escape From No Future” matched his strained yearning to not only establish an emotional core for the song, but, more practically, build the tension that explodes in a defiant, “And never again!” Epic set closer “The Battle of Hampton Roads” (a nearly fifteen minute song) is only an acoustic guitar away from being realized as the folk song that rests at its core. The slow build of Local Business’ “In A Small Body” (which Stickles said the band had only played live two times before) demonstrates the other equally important side of Titus Andronicus, the side that doesn’t have to inspire fervent moshing and fist pumps. With its middle breakdown of swelling strings, cascading guitar riff, and simple vocal melodies, its easy to see the influence previous tour mates Okkervil River have had on the current direction of Titus.
And yet, this isn’t anything new. Only their 2008 debut LP The Airing of Grievances possesses a reliably gritty and raucous sonic texture, with 2010 breakthrough The Monitor making more varied touchstone influences like Bright Eyes and Neutral Milk Hotel readily apparent. Having noted this, it makes crowd utterances like, “Play anything but your third album!” entirely ignorant. While it’s true that the back half of last November’s Local Business shows a more relaxed feel compared to some of their previous work, few records in 2012 started out with such a strong lyrical manifesto in, “Ok, I think by now we’ve established everything is inherently worthless / And there’s nothing in the universe with any kind of objective purpose.” Titus started the show with the same one-two punch that begins Local Business, “Ecce Homo” rolling into “Still Life With Hot Deuce on Silver Platter”. And even if long term Titus fans find Local Business lacking as a follow-up to their earlier work (who, by the way, would be wrong), it represents an evolutionary process. If The Airing of Grievances is about what the title purports, and The Monitor is about finding one’s place in society, then Local Business furthers this development by sharing a theme of attempted progress (see: “My Eating Disorder” and “Tried to Quit Smoking”). Musically, Local Business puts Titus Andronicus in position to be the heirs to The Replacements’ trajectory, with an ability to inhabit various neighboring styles without compromising any of them. I’d like to hear that one naysayer in the crowd tell me that “Can’t Hardly Wait” is anything other than one of the greatest indie/rock/whatever songs of the past quarter century, and if that’s where Titus is heading, I’m excited. This is a band equally at home with Billy Bragg, Thin Lizzy, and Fucked Up, and they’re able to bring those ranges together in a way’s both uniquely exhilarating and conceptually captivating.
Titus put on an energetic and captivating show at The Sinclair (as they always do), but it was plain to see the toll previous weeks of touring had taken on the band given that this concert became an unintended addendum to what should have already been relaxation time. Stickles’ voice was even more worn out than usual, and the house mix did its best to keep the triple guitar attack in front. Those in the audience who had only ever heard Stickles howl on record were most likely left disappointed. Not to say that everyone should expect studio-perfected vocal takes to be representative of live performance–that’s naturally a ridiculous expectation. But Stickles did seem tired at times in a way that bordered on a misinterpretation of unenthusiasm. Compare this to Japandroids’ Brian King, a sponge for an audience’s passion whose vocal chords surely possess the mutant healing powers of his fellow Canadian Wolverine to still be functional at this point.
I’d be remiss not to mention a couple of testy remarks Stickles made in response to two separate and mundane crowd yelps of his name. The first elicited a response of, “Stop sweatin’ me bro. I’m trying to do something up here,” only to be tempered seconds later with a slightly apologetic, “I appreciate your enthusiasm…” The second occurrence began much in the same way, but this time Stickles shot back with a put down, devastating in its innocuousness: “What dude? I acknowledge you. You exist.” Again, it makes perfect sense why Stickles and the band as a whole might have been completely wiped out by this point in their main tour for Local Business.
Moments like these didn’t overshadow a night that impressed fans both old and new, which at worst served as a down payment on what Titus can do at full strength. Despite any potential concerns from the floor, it was clear the band had a good time on stage, adding flourishes like a solo breakdown for everyone on stage in the middle of “Titus Andronicus Forever”. In turn, the floor crowd appropriately responded the way floor crowds always do to Titus Andronicus by treating the venue like a basement. It all comes down to having fun and taking it one show at a time. It’s the least you can hope for between now and home.
