993 TITUS ANDRONICUS, Esuma, Bad Vibes, Cardiff Gwdihw Café Bar, Wednesday 8th June 2016

The Mighty Titus Andronicus, in a venue about the size of my living room, on the hottest night of the year? Hoo boy… at the very least, this one’s going to get seriously sweaty…!

I picked up on this one on Facebook, and after checking with Cardiff resident Craig, some barely-believable details emerged, the gig being organised by a local Titus Andronicus devotee, in a venue which purported to be the size of a shoebox. Wow! Well, since their 2010 album “The Monitor” had utterly blown me away with its’ violent collision of vicious stomping punk rock, wordy literary subject matter referencing the American Civil War and general class struggles, and anthemic widescreen tuneage, causing me to proclaim it as pretty much the best album I’d heard all century (yes, I did say century), Titus Andronicus, in various guises, had become a similarly thrilling and visceral “live” staple of mine. So I wasn’t missing this potentially landmark manic evening out, booking a ticket quickly.

Craig managed to sort himself a ticket as well, so a sticky and close afternoon saw me heading off down the M4 and across the border, meeting up with Craig at his place just after 6. Long-overdue catching up with my old friend ensued, and plans were confirmed for an overnight stop, before we headed off into town, parking up at Professor Gurney’s grandiose work establishment and wandering through the city centre to this brightly painted and bohemian venue, ironically across the road from the cavernous Motorpoint Arena. Sure enough, it was minuscule, the main room actually being similar in size and orientation to my living room, the stage being more of a corner step to the front left of the boarded front window. My initially impressions were that you could probably shoehorn about 100 punters in, if they were packed like sardines…!

Sought open air refuge in the outside yet tarpaulin-covered beer garden, where Craig pointed out the neighbouring Cardiff Prison (oh lordy…), before we wandered in for openers Bad Vibes. Kind of wished I hadn’t, as they played an incoherent, shouty Nu-Metal mess, with screaming vocals delivered by the bastard son of Hermann Munster and Den Hegarty of 70’s rockers Darts. Decamped in short order to the beer garden as my ears are too delicate for this ham-fisted, clumsy and occasionally out of tune malarkey. Good thing their set was short! Esuna, next up, were a better proposition, albeit a very schizophrenic bunch, often straddling diametrically opposed musical genres in the space of half a song, and smothering what started off as either pleasantly meandering indie numbers or Manics-style anthems with hobnail-booted Sabbath style old school HM riffery. Still, the (initially) Tranmere Rovers-shirted drummer and clear bandleader was a hard-hitting and entertaining “live” presence, at least...

After another sojourn into the beer garden, we squeezed our way back in, Craig pitching up halfway back as I squeezed my way further forward, initially stage right, for the entrance of the 4-piece (for tonight) Titus Andronicus just before 10. “This is our first time in Wales – we’ve been dreaming of this moment for years and now it’s finally here,” quipped the angular, heavily bearded vocalist Patrick Stickles, tongue firmly in cheek and eliciting a chortle from the assemblage, Stickles then going on to warn us, “when we kick in with the rocking, just try and be careful – there’s potential for misadventures!”

Well, we couldn’t say we weren’t warned… the opening plaintive bars of “No Future Part Three” then burst into frenzied, roaring life, the pounding militaristic drum rolls powering the rock, as Stickles brandished his guitar like a broadsword, his conviction already clear-eyed and scarily intense, and I at least responded in kind, rocking out from the get-go, and fist-pumping the air to the all-inclusive and almost ironically joyful repetitive terrace chant hook outro of, “you will always… be a LOSER!” The eponymous and “White Riot”-alike “Titus Andronicus” was next up, one anthemic hook replaced with another (this time of, “your life is OVER!”), and it was clear that we were in for a very special evening, where audience and band combine into one, singular of purpose, revelling in the unifying power of rock’n’roll.

Titus Andronicus were utterly on fire tonight. The strident bluesy strut of “Mr. E Mann”, the skyscraping hook of “Fired Up”, and the crazed, wide-eyed hurtling punk rock thrill ride of “Dimed Out”, all prime cuts from the sprawling recent “The Most Lamentable Tragedy” double CD, were an awe-inspiring mid-set triple whammy. The band were totally in their stride by now, nary pausing for breath or a chance for the audience to even applaud before racing into the next, and by this time I’d wormed my way to front and centre, battering away for all I was worth (whilst keeping my feet planted and my dodgy knees soft!), leading the charge, immersed in the moment, completely lost in this magnificent, raw, ragged, strident, thrilling and utterly euphoric performance from this very special and unique band of ruffians. Following the Jagger-esque peacock strut of “Fatal Flaw” the band finally took a breather, Stickles thanking the promoter for, “inviting us to play here at… I’m not even going to try to pronounce it! “The Owl!” We’ve got those in America but they’re endangered!” then announcing a final couple of numbers…

The menacing jangle of the bilious, dramatic epic “The Battle Of Hampton Roads” kicked into life and the place went batshit crazy, almost impossibly finding new levels of frenzy as the song powered through the gears, swooping and tempo changing throughout its 14 minute plus duration, as I hung on down the front, backing the crowd up as best I could, lest we all collapse onstage into the band. Then, as if to demonstrate that even higher levels of magnificence could be achieved, “A More Perfect Union” threatened to unmoor this tiny café bar from its’ foundations, changing pace from manic careering punk rock to all-inclusive swayalong (“Rally ‘round the flag,” indeed!). An utterly fitting way to end an astonishing performance, Titus Andronicus surprising us all by reaching even higher levels of raw, visceral “live” brilliance, eclipsing even their own high standards. Holy fuck, what a show!

Suffice to say, we all needed to pause for breath in the immediate aftermath. I, drenched (Full Cleo! Yay!) and elated, chatted with Craig, the promoter and passing bassist RJ Gordon. I then noticed Patrick Stickles head down the road past his van, and after an appropriate time (at which point his fellow band members were asking of his whereabouts), I wandered down, discovering him sat in the corner of the car park opposite, collecting his thoughts after his performance, which had clearly taken its’ toll, requiring a prodigious level of commitment from him. We walked back to the venue as he composed himself, the two of us enjoying a brief chat about Crass and particularly the song “Big”A” Little “A””, before I took the opportunity for a pic, and Craig and I hit the road back to his place after an utterly epic night.

Big breakfast in the pub opposite and a brief shopping excursion in Cardiff before heading home at lunchtime the next day. This one was truly one of the greats; an utterly stellar performance from The Mighty Titus Andronicus!

966 TITUS ANDRONICUS, Washington Irving, Bristol Thekla, Friday 6th November 2015

“Off down to Bristol to that there Dirty Boat tonight, to see The Mighty Titus Andronicus. They turn it on the way they can, and they might just sink the fucker...”

That was my Facebook massage as I set off for this one tonight, to the Thekla indeed, for an evening of visceral, confrontational amped-up, cranked-up bar-room blues/ punk rock crash collision from Titus Andronicus, purveyors of the stunning, ragged yet literary, spontaneous yet cerebral, and just mind-blowingly awesome 2010 album “The Monitor”, which sounded for all and sundry as if the American Civil War had taken place in 1976 Max’s Kansas City or the ’77 Kings Road. This time, however, Patrick Stickles and his band of troubadour ruffians are touring current release “The Most Lamentable Tragedy”, a 29 track, 93 minute sprawling epic, documenting Stickles’ own transition into his 30’s with raw, ragged-arsed punk, blues, swagger and attitude aplenty. Don’t do things by halves, these boys…

A Titus Andronicus gig is a pretty essential thing for me, so I booked a ticket for this one ASAP and found myself driving down an M4 festooned with fireworks either side from various local displays, expecting some musical pyrotechnics of my own on the Dirty Boat! Parked up about ¼ to 8 and wandered past the band’s tour van, noticing Mr. Stickles rummaging through various piles for his tour shirt; “got to look the same in all the photos!” Had a brief chat with this most personable of vocalists, recalling my previous TA gigs and remarking that this was gig 966 for me. “You’re a dedicated patron of the arts!” was his response. Nice! I therefore only caught one number of support Washington Irving, actually a 5-piece guitar-dominated combo with some shimmering and dramatic guitar noise embellishing their finale.

As Frank Sinatra played on the PA, the place filled up notably and I took my place at the front, stage left next to the keyboardist set-up (more on him later), as the atmosphere became palpably anticipatory and the stage became enveloped in a pink haze. Stickles and keyboardist Elio DeLuca wandered onstage, almost absent-mindedly, reciprocating the cheers with a semi-startled wave… “We’re on a boat! We normally wouldn’t rock the boat, but tonight we’re gonna do just that,” he remarked, before advising us to not go too crazy as “we’re all in the same boat!” Opener “Icarus” eased in like a lamb, slow-burn and polite, then turned into a triumphant sticky-floor bar-room romp when the rest of the band took the stage. This pretty much set the tone for the early set – the wide-eyed Stickles rampaged through a half-dozen numbers in quickfire succession, the band enthusiastically and kinetically backing him up with a strut and a swagger. I loved the synchronised rawk steps during “Fatal Flaw”, and the beer-soaked Irish tinge to “Come On Siobhan”, then when the boys finally stopped for breath, a half-hour in, Stickles continued his punning routine; “it’s been 100% fog machines on this tour! You British like your fog – why it’s not more common in America… I haven’t the foggiest idea!” Groan!

Back onto the rock, and a couple of numbers later, the menacing drumbeat of “A More Perfect Union”, the fantastic, epic, widescreen and sprawling opener from “The Monitor”, kicked off, and the place went utterly batshit crazy. “Union” was awesome, lying waste to the Thekla with its’ skyscraping terrace chant hooks and venomous bile and indignation, then “Titus Andronicus Forever” completed a double whammy, the presciently prophetic hook chant of “the enemy is everywhere!” being delivered both punk rock and boogie woogie piano style.

“A Pot In Which To Piss” was also magnificent, kicking off as a tortured lament before crunching into a pounding, almost rockabilly backbeat with some Buddy Holly-like harmonies from appropriately bespectacled bassist Julian Veronesi. The almost Dickies-like amphetamine thrash-punk of newie “Dimed Out” followed, before another terrace chant double to close the set; “No Future Part Three”’s military drumbeat and tortured confessional giving way to the repeating closing chant of, “you will always be a loser!”, then the eponymous “Titus Andronicus”, kicking off with a savage riff recalling The Clash’s “White Riot” and closing out with another repeating chant, this time, “your life is over!”. Simply brilliant stuff, the essence of raw, visceral rock and roll delivered triumphantly with style and justified swagger.

We weren’t letting them go that easily though; despite the stage lights going up and PA music kicking in again, the repeated encore clamours enticed the band back on for a powerful, strutting version of “Brown Sugar” which the heavily bearded Stickles delivered, shirtless and soaked with sweat, underlining the shift he’d put in. And that wasn’t it for me either – after grabbing a couple of lists for myself and a fellow punter, I hung back afterwards, patience being rewarded outside with another chat with Stickles and the band, mutual compliments and signed set lists. As if more was needed, the icing on the cake was a lengthy chat with keyboardist Elio DeLuca, an expat Bostonian and friend to the likes of Corin Ashley, The Sheila Divine and… The Gravel Pit. “In that case, I’ve got something to show you,” I said as I rolled up my sleeve to reveal my TGP tattoo to another incredulous response!

Eventually, I reluctantly dragged myself away and headed home, following another triumphant, euphoric performance from one of the greatest “live” acts currently treading the boards. Titus Andronicus… they didn’t quite sink the fucker, but they certainly laid waste to The Thekla tonight. Awesome stuff – Titus Andronicus Forever!

881 TITUS ANDRONICUS, Supporting Fucked Up, Merz, Bristol Fleece, Sunday 26 May 2013

The hosts of my 800^th gig, the ball-crushingly epic Bristol Cooler show in 2010, return for my 881^st! Confrontational New Jersey noiseniks Titus Andronicus, who since their magnificent, sprawling epic 2010 CD Of the Year “The Monitor”, then announced a distillation of the widescreen series of players on record and the leaner, punkier core tour grouping into one 6-piece band going forward (don’t ask me either, that’s new millennial punk rock for you…), subsequently releasing a thematically wider-ranging, less “concept”-y and fine-but-nowhere-near-as-good follow-up in 2012’s “Local Business”. Honestly, I hardly expected any follow-up to be a patch on “The Monitor” (which is easily in the Top 3 of my favourite albums of this whole damn Century…), otherwise we’d be talking about quite possibly the greatest rock’n’roll band in the history of forever. Lightning really doesn’t strike twice in that way.

Nevertheless, whilst accepting “The Monitor” was a one-off and adjusting my expectations accordingly, we still have a damn fine, committed and visceral punk band, and one capable of touching some serious heights in the “live” environment. So, despite their status as support here to similarly minded post-hardcore ruffians Fucked Up, I snapped up a ticket for this one over Christmas (!), and 5 months later found myself hurtling down the M4 early doors on the hottest day of the year so far, anticipating an early showing from Patrick Stickles and the boys. I wasn’t wrong, I discovered, as I parked up at 7.40 in a new spot behind The Fleece, in sight of both the river and the Seven Stars pub next to the venue; Merz were just rounding off their opening set, and according to the running order on the door, Titus Andronicus were due on at 8! Yipe !

So I wandered down the front in anticipation of an early start and sure enough, the band came on to set up at 10 to 8, the now-beardless Patrick opening up an equipment case to reveal a quite bewildering array of effects pedals. This however precipitated a lengthy and interminable equipment check, as Patrick struggled to get the correct pedal chain set-up, at one point responding to a hurry-up from a roadie with an exasperated, “what do you think I’m trying to do???” At what point, I wondered as the time ticked on, does he just say, fuck it and start the gig as is?

We eventually got started just after 20 past, Patrick announcing, “we’re back! Just not for as long as we thought,” some pre-set between band discussions having centred around which songs to cut to save time (oops…). However, from the savage opening riff of “A More Perfect Union”, the wait was worth it. The sound was messy but the band were totally “on it” with as intense, kinetic and passionate a performance as possible. The swoops, sweeps and tempo changes of this punked-up version were brilliantly rendered with just the right amount of ragged edge, and the crowd responded with a strident singalong of the “rally round the flag” hook. Brilliant, breathless opening!

“We’ve had to cut a few but we’re not cutting this one,” announced Patrick for “Upon Viewing Oregon’s Landscape With The Flood Of Detritus”, which was again raw, ragged, unbelievably loud and the utter essence of punk rock, rising titanically over the (relatively) muted version on “Local Business”. Another from that album followed in a thrilling amphetamine rush, before Patrick amazingly, turned to me (right down the front, remember…) and said, “you’ve got a Hold Steady t-shirt on, you look trustworthy,” then promptly handed me a Canon camcorder and asked me to film the band! Crikey! 

I then juggled trying to film them and bits of the crowd as best I could (sorry if there’s a bit too much ceiling, chaps…) whilst freaking out to the rest of the set, which due to cuts comprised of an amazing, vengeful and venomous “Battle Of Hampton Roads”, a by-now bare-chested Patrick fitting more ire and brilliantly articulated righteous fury into its’ 14 minutes than most so-called current “punk” bands do into their entire careers, then a final, fitting “Titus Andronicus Forever”, to close, the crowd circling me chanting, “the enemy is everywhere!” as one. A more intense, angry, violent, joyful, all-inclusive half-hour’s rock I’ll be hard pushed to experience this year. Wow. Just… wow.

And Wow more afterwards, as I ran into a very articulate and friendly Patrick afterwards, who insisted on buying me a drink as thanks for my shaky camera work. Enjoyed a chat with a lovely bloke with a real sense of history for his chosen art (illustrated perfectly by a Crass tattoo worn on his shoulder) and a passion for doing it his and their way, with no compromise. Rock’n’roll needs more Patrick Stickles. No doubt.

Fucked Up had no chance after that, so I left their (comparatively) inarticulate howl of a set to the devotees, and I drove home after another momentous and memorable experience in the company of The Mighty Titus Andronicus!

 

800 TITUS ANDRONICUS, Bravo Brave Bats, Bristol Cooler, Friday 19 November 2010

Another landmark gig reached; gig 800, and the hosts are Titus Andronicus, a New Jersey rabble who have whipped me up into a right old state this year with their wonderful album "The Monitor". A delicious and viciously barbed and skewed blend of bar-room blues rock, savage yet melodic terrace-chant punk and widescreen anthemic guitar soundscapes, with an literary lyricism reflecting the venom of the music, yet articulate and fascinating, referencing amongst other subjects the American Civil War and general class struggles through subsequent times, it's easily 2010's best. Seriously, I've not been this enthused and excited about a new band since discovering The Hold Steady 4 years back, so hopes were high, perhaps unfairly so, for this one. How could they live up to it "live"? How, indeed...

Hit the Cooler, a new and splendid scuzzy little venue halfway up the Park Street hill, at 8.30, after driving down late to Bristol and dumping the car in Trenchard's Level 10 (!). Titus Andronicus' bassist Ian Graetzer was manning the merch stand, so I had a brief chat and bought a t-shirt before local support Bravo Brave Bats came on at 8.45. An odd-looking 3-piece featuring a drummer/singer with a horrible red vest and a Movember 'tache, they nevertheless played a fast, furious and jagged set of powerful punky rock, recalling the likes of Mission Of Burma and Glitterbox, and kicked up a real storm in the process, the guitarist in particular abandoning the stage on more than one occasion to hurl himself through the crowd. Quite possibly the best new support I've seen this year, Bravo Brave Bats were the perfect hors d'oeuvres for Titus Andronicus, a point I made to the Alexei Sayle lookalike bassist afterwards.

I stayed down the front, stage right, for Titus Andronicus, on at 10 to 10 after a fiddly soundcheck. Heavily bearded and helium-voiced vocalist Patrick Stickles immediately kicked into the booming, bass-driven intro to "A More Perfect Union", and the packed moshpit went mental. Jacket quickly discarded, I joined in as their savage, jagged guitar overload attack ignited the crowd into a frenzy, and their anthemic material took on a soaring, euphoric and (oh yes) joyful quality "live". "Union"s intricate tempo changes flowed effortlessly, and the mosh joined in with the sing-along, Irish tinged hook of, "rally round the flag," the first uplifting and all-inclusive battle-cry of the night.

This, in fact, was the essence of their strident, powerful and kinetic performance tonight; an all-inclusive gang mentality, a real rapport and connection with their audience. A mid-set double of "No Future Part 3" with the hook of, "you will always be a loser!" and the subsequent "Titus Andronicus", introduced by Patrick as, "another one with a repeating refrain," this time the hook being, "your life is over!" resonated around this packed venue. My favourite, "The Battle Of Hampton Roads", a 14-minute epic with tempo changes and crescendos aplenty and a bilious, vengeful lyric ("when I smoke I will smoke gaping holes in my chest, when I scream I will scream till I'm gasping for breath") was brilliant, and a frenzied, amphetamine fast Misfits cover revealed the band's punk roots. A final "Four Score And Seven" rounded off an awesome, magnificent performance, with band and audience having poured all of themselves into it, leaving us all sweat-drenched and elated.

As good was to come afterwards when, acting on a promise from bass player Ian beforehand, drummer Eric Harm wrote out a set-list especially for me! It appears they don't normally use one, underlining the "working without a safety net" aspect of their live shows, so hey, that's a collector's item! Effusive congrats afterwards with the band before I reluctantly drew this one to a close and poured my sweaty self (full Cleo! Result!) into the chill Bristol night. Call off the dogs, the search is over, the Mighty Titus Andronicus tonight delivered the 2010 Gig Of The Year. What a way to celebrate No. 800!