Titus Andronicus- The Monitor

Titus Andronicus- The Monitor
Rating: 9.3/10

In 2008, The Airing of Grievances- Titus Andronicus' self-released debut went fairly under-the-radar and failed to garner much more attention when reissued by XL the following year. The fact is that, even with all its flaws, Airing was easily one of the years most rewarding listens; brilliantly executing its own brand of lo-fi garage-rock. It was abrasive, yet catchy; poignant, yet uncompromising. But what stood out most about this record was its use of the spoken-word monologue to drive home its message that alienation, despair, and thoughts of iniquity can be used as a badge for any man to proudly display over his wounded heart. Needless to say, The Monitor had a lot to live up to-- and thankfully it does.

Within the opening seconds of the album, we are not surprised to hear Patrick Stickles channeling the great Abe Lincoln, declaring: "as a nation of free men, we will live forever or die by suicide" before droning guitars and pounding drums make way for an unexpectedly clear vocal approach by Stickles. Whereas his screeching vocals were once drenched in reverb and pushed into the background, they are front-and-center here, creating a strikingly stirring effect. No longer does he lack the confidence in his delivery or rely on artifice to distort his unrelenting stammer. He's comfortable getting right in your face and screaming your ear off with personal tales of paranoia, intoxication, frustration, and occasionally love.

Throughout the album's first half, the instrumentation remains familiar and loyal to that of their debut. "A More Perfect Union", with its three-part song structure and autobiographical lyrics, tells the story of the band's departure from New Jersey in search of everything and anything unfamiliar. Less than ten minutes into the album, we are bombarded with our third reading from Stickles, already surpassing the two speeches that bookended their previous effort. He's clearly content with accosting his listeners with as many passages as it takes to convey the isolation and fear he's undergoing. "Richard II" suggests the band might revisit the works of Shakespeare, sharing their own interpretation of the ill-fated king, but the title is purposely misleading. Instead, it's merely a scathing hate song that pays homage to the Billy Bragg track, from which it borrows a few lines. The song's upbeat shuffling snare rolls and distorted guitar riffs effectively contrast the grim subject matter, with Stickles berating his subject for "burning orphanages down" and "cutting ears off of dead men". The song peaks when we hear Stickles shout out:

"There's only one dream that I keep close/And it's the one of my hand at your throat"

before a blazing guitar riff and thrashing percussion enter out of seemingly nowhere. Though "Richard" is an obvious highlight, at this point in the record it's difficult to overlook the fact that it seems to be more of the same from the band. Sure, it's as loud, hard-hitting, and triumphant as their previous work (and possibly even more-so), but it just feels a little safe and familiar. That being said, it'd be impossible to anticipate what lies ahead-- "Richard" ends in a minute-long drone, as if to set apart side-one from the challenging deviation of the album's remaining tracks.

It's roughly five minutes into album centerpiece "A Pot In Which To Piss" when a honky-tonk piano begins to scale the mountaintops behind a perfectly-executed string line, establishing the albums first truly-inspired moment. When the song swells into its final movement, blaring trumpets and harmonizing backing vocals leave no doubt that this is Titus' most ambitious arrangement and recording to date. Two-part single "Four Score And Seven" fares just as well. Part one showcases their softer side, delving into the country roots they typically obscure with layers of distortion. Production is replete with a violin and harmonica, giving the eerie effect of a train passing in the distance. The track eventually escalates into an infectious shuffle, with a dozen voices chanting "you won't be laughing so hard" with so much beauty, it's quite easy to overlook much of the disdain it carries. Part two is not so much a continuation as a different song entirely, this time with Stickles snarling "we're all depraved and disgusting". It's clear he's fed-up, most likely with the direction our society is moving, or to put it perfectly:

"We've been coddling those we should be running through/don't wait around for them to come shake hands, they're not gonna be waiting for you".

"Theme From Cheers" is clearly the album's most humorous track and possibly its best. It's not so much about the desire for a place where "everybody knows your name", but rather about getting trashed with a few buddies in your quaint, yet all-too-familiar hometown. Dan McGee of Spider Bags takes the mic for the second verse, creating an electrifying dynamic not typically heard in Titus' studio work. The song concludes with Stickles pining for the frat-boy lifestyle to never cease, purchasing the local bar and slowly growing old with his fellow band-mates: "funny we're still doing carbombs after all these years".

Piano ballad "To Old Friends And New" is another high point in this record, with its meandering marching beat and duet vocals, it's easy to label it as one of the few 'love songs' found in the band's repertoire. However, instead of affectionate dialogue, both lovers seem content with dwelling on the numerous problems that plague their relationship. When the song culminates in the presumably Yo La Tengo-inspired refrain "it's alright the way that you live", it's accepting, heartfelt, and incredibly uplifting (emotions you wouldn't exactly expect from Titus Andronicus), thus adding another dimension to their music and ultimately proving the band's versatility. Epic closer "The Battle Of Hampton Roads" clocks in at fourteen minutes, the last six of which is instrumental jamming with multiple guitar solos, trumpets and bagpipes. The song contains my favorite lyric on the album:

"There's a way to live the values your forefathers gave you/prepare to be told 'that shit's gay, dude'/well, i guess what they say is true/there is no race more human, no one throws it away like they do".

You've really got to give Titus Andronicus credit on this one. With their second effort, they've managed to surpass the raucous Airing of Grievances while staying true to its overall sound and spirit. They retain the buzzing guitars and thrashing drum sound that helped define their debut while adding brand-new elements into the mix (violin, trumpet, saxophone). No one can dare chastise the band for not being themselves or pandering to the mainstream. It's true, The Monitor has a cleaner, more accessible sound, but at this point in their career, it's the best album Titus Andronicus could have made, and simply no one else could have made it.

After all, The Monitor has a lot to offer-- memorable melodies, blistering guitar riffs, singalong chanting, unexpected tempo changes, and instantly compelling lyrics. Now, for the twist-- not once in this review did I even mention the Civil War. But that's exactly what this album is: a loosely-based Civil War analogy. Does this surprise you? Well, it really shouldn't, seeing as how Titus front-man Patrick Stickles is as belligerent as he is well-read. The sources of his recited commentary remain contemporary with the time-period, ranging from Walt Whitman and Jefferson Davis to abolitionist William Lloyd Garrison.

Only two years since formally stating his many grievances, it's somewhat surprising that Stickles still has so much to say. In this case, he's comparing the inhumanity of the war to the viciousness with which many in our society treat their fellow man. It may seem like a bit of a stretch, but I think the point is more valid than you choose to believe. Blind hatred, judgment, and callousness have become pervasive components in our society's every-man-for-himself mentality, causing an inherent distrust and unwillingness to accept or lend out a hand to others. "The enemy is everywhere" Stickles keeps reminding us. Evidently, he's been hurt a few times before, leaving him to doubt the intentions of everyone around him while entrusting us to rightfully seek their true identity. He's become the very thing he's set out to destroy-- one of many casualties of war, I suppose. This only goes to show that it's easy to be skeptical, but when it comes to displaying kindness, compassion, and concern for our peers, clearly it's still us against them.

--Jon Manning

Theme From Cheers

Four Score And Seven