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Titus Andronicus

Brighton Music Hall, Boston, MA

October 15, 2015

Like any show I’m excited about, I was really scared of disappointment while driving to this Boston Titus Andronicus (hereafter +@) concert. Since The Monitor, +@ has been one of my favorite bands. They combine dynamic, epic rock songs with to-the-point chord progressions embedded in punk rock history; and Patrick Stickles delivers growly, Joyceanly specific lyrics that are nonetheless deeply relatable. I fell in love with their latest album, The Most Lamentable Tragedy (a punk rock opera about manic depression, in classic +@ style), and there haven't been many weeks since 2010 when I don’t listen to them at least once. On top of all this, my girlfriend - who has a tendency to shout +@ songs in their entirety whenever she hears a single word of a lyric - was going to the show, too. There was a lot of hype, and we weren’t the only ones - the show sold out months before. The comfy Brighton Music Hall was packed, and nearly everyone jumped, yelled, and danced in unison as +@ delivered a fantastic 90-minute set. There was loud, pit-inducing punk rock. There were quiet, somber moments. There were everyone-come-together anthems. It was one of the best concerts I’ve been to.

The show started with frontman Patrick Stickles and keyboardist Elio DeLuca coming on stage. Stickles was wearing that olive green jacket and 18th-century-German-philosopher beard we’ve seen him in lately and the classic black +@ shirt. Casually strumming his guitar, he looked into the crowd and said, “You know, I guess this is when I give a really long speech about how punk rock is about freedom, and having fun doing whatever you want, and being American. But those speeches are usually really boring. And I don’t have to say that anyway, because it’s already said up there.” He pointed to a sign that’s always been up at Brighton, and read it: “‘No moshing or stage diving. Keep your feet on the ground and have a good time. Violators will be ejected without refund.’ We don’t want anyone to get EJECTED, now do we?” Stickles went on for several more minutes, talking about punk rock and the idea of putting on a concert, and occasionally saying, “Those long speeches are so boring…”

Eventually Stickles started playing his guitar, but with only DeLuca on stage. It was quickly apparent that Stickles was playing a solo version of “Upon Viewing Oregon’s Landscape With the Flood of Detritus,” a usually bolting, foot-stomping song about driving around the country and seeing people die on the highways while traffickers “sit and grit their teeth, hating that which comes between them and their coffee.” The room sounded like half the audience was sitting and gritting their teeth, hating that which comes between them and +@’s MAD RIFFS, while the other half sounded silently affected by Stickles whiningly crying out, “There are a thousand dreams never to come to pass, because dreams can’t be, nor people, indeed, built to last.” Regardless of which half of the audience you were, everyone chanted that last line, “Built to last,” over and over with Stickles.

After the odd-but-moving solo, the whole band came out - including Adam Reich, who I recognized as playing guitar for the So So Glos show I saw at Paradise a while back. The lights turned green and purple, and the band played the first three songs of The Most Lamentable Tragedy straight through, and then immediately jumped into “Still Life With Hot Deuce And Silver Platter.” At this point, the room was going nuts, and you could already hear people’s dry throats trying to keep up with Stickles you-gotta-sing-along growls. The only reason Stickles wasn’t totally dead after “Hot Deuce” was probably because he was chugging a water bottle after each song.

“Oooh, Dasani!” Stickles commercially said, taking a breather with everyone else. “You know, people come up to me and they say, ‘Yo Patrick, how do you stay so thin and tight?” He rolled up his sleeves, to show that he really was a twig of a man. “You want me to tell you how I keep it so tight? It’s all because my life is a FOOD FIGHT!!!”

The band jumped into the one-two punch combo “Food Fight!” and “My Eating Disorder,” which is one of my favorite +@ songs. It really was something else to have a dreadfully skinny bearded Patrick Stickles shout with hair covering his eyes, “I know the world’s a scary place, that’s why I hide behind a hairy face” and then constantly croon “My eating disorder, my eating disorder, my eating disorder it’s inside me!!” Already it's a rare treasure to have a songwriter pour out his emotional struggles in front of you - but to see hairy, skinny reflection of struggle staring and shouting at you is moves you to the point of terrified paralysis.

If everyone wrote down all the songs they hoped +@ played that night, I doubt many would leave without a checked-off list. There was the trio "Fired Up," "Dimed Out," and "More Perfect Union" that finishes off the first half of The Most Lamentable Tragedy; that eponymous song from their debut; "No Future" Part III" from The Monitor; "In A Big City" from Local Business. And looking back at that checked-off list: If +@ ever put out a Greatest Hits, a suitable title might be Anthems for Losers: Many +@ hits involve repeatedly shouting lines like “YOUR LIFE IS OVER,” “YOU’LL ALWAYS BE A LOSER,” and “I HATE TO BE AWAKE,” which have a self-deprecating euphoria that made the show feel like a Shaker worship service for unfulfilled twenty-somethings.

One of the best moments was “A More Perfect Union” (not to be confused with the aforementioned "More Perfect Union"). “Now let’s travel back in time, back to 2008!” Stickles shouted. “I was 23 years old, and - true story - I lived here in Somerville, MA for a brief but formative period of my life. I was living with this girl and commuting to New Jersey every day, which was plenty of thoughtful time to write lyrics. Then one day the girl broke up with me, and I fled Somerville, never to return again, except to rock you guys. Yeah...There isn’t really a convenient punchline to this story, but it’s true, all true.” Then the band started that perfect opener to The Monitor, and Stickles’ lyrics resonated with me more than they ever did playing through my headphones, as he yelled about “waiting for the Fung Wah bus” and standing “beneath the lights of the Fenway.” The whole place went crazy as people screamed “Give me a brutal Somerville summer, give me a cruel New England winter!” For a place to be stamped into the opener of an album that so many people love, and then to be in that place...I’ll never forget that moment.

Before their last song, Stickles idly said, “Yeah, rock is cool...Baseball is pretty cool, too. Let’s go Mets!” He pointed to the back of the venue, through the window, to the bar across the street, where you could see the Mets vs Dodgers game on a big TV. You could also see a few people trying to watch +@ in the Somerville cold. “And look at those sad faces in the window. We’re just going to play one more song. Can we let those people in? Just for one song??” Sure enough, they let those ten people in for “To Old Friends and New,” one of the softer songs on The Monitor with that final, Velvet-Underground-influenced chant “Well it’s alright, the way that you live - it’s alright, the way that you live” that’s perfect for a final +@ moment.

The band left the stage, and I really wasn’t expecting an encore. The band already played a fantastic 90-minute set, and I figured +@ was above cramming in a bunch of hits into another 20-minute encore. The audience kept shouting, though, and +@ came back. “Alright,” Stickles said, “One more, but that’s all you get! It’s the bottom of the eighth inning - we gotta get outta here. Here’s one more song for you, Boston!” Stickles yanked off his shirt, revealing his incredibly pale, nearly emaciated body, and danced as the band burst into a cover of The Modern Lovers’ “Roadrunner,” by far the most fitting song for the end of a Boston punk show (and, fun fact, the song I got my first speeding ticket to). And they kept their word, walking off stage after that - and Stickles got to see the Mets beat the Dodgers a minute or two later, who went on to win the NCLS and play the Royals in the World Series.

+@ is one of the fun bands keeping rockin’, fervent punk alive, along with their buds The So So Glos and Diarrhea Planet. Please keep coming to Boston, +@ - I’ll always see you.

Run The Jewels

First Avenue

Minneapolis, MN

October 23, 2015

“I’ll apologize now. If you are wearing glasses, you might want to put those away. If you hate being slammed into by people, you might want to make your way to the back. If you’re rocking brand new sneakers, I’m sorry. I’ve been there. I understand. But you’ve been warned. I’m sorry in advance about your new shoes.”

The speaker is El-P. He and his partner in rhyme Killer Mike are known as Run The Jewels. Maybe you’ve heard of them. No doubt a result of their relentless tour schedule—this being their fifth appearance in the Twin Cities alone in just three years—Run The Jewels have mastered the art of house-rocking. We’re midway through their headlining set at a sold-out First Avenue, where they’ll give this seemingly honest and understanding forewarning just a moment to sink in before Zach de la Rocha’s sampled machinegun-fast vocals crack from the speakers, signifying the arrival of “Close Your Eyes (and Count to Fuck)." “Run them jewels fast, run them jewels fast, run them, run them, run them…fuck the slow-mo...”

And then it happens.

BOOM!

Trackstar The DJ drops the beat and the audience explodes into a frenzy of neck-snapping, pogoing, fake gun-in-the-air-firing, fist-pumping lunacy…again. This is how it’s been since they took the stage. You wouldn’t think it could any crazier, any sweatier, or any OMG-ier. But it does.

Louder than fuck and with enough sub-rattling oompf to run a nuclear reactor, RTJ perform on this night—the second to last of their current tour—as if they are auditioning for their first record deal. Keeping the eager crowd enthusiastic for an hour plus in stifling heat, the duo themselves are intense and furious and restless and command the proceedings instinctively; reaffirming that they are thee force to be reckoned with in the hip-hip pantheon.

The openers Fashawn and Boots fill their roles adequately. The former, clearly understanding the importance of high spots, brings locals Prof and Brother Ali on for one song each. Meanwhile the latter’s The Weekend meets Nine Inch Nails gimmickry (about all the was missing was a bunch of mud and keyboards on boomerang stands) seems a tad out of place, but provides ample time to hit the bathrooms and grab last-minute drinks. And oh boy, the drinks are being had tonight.

RTJ enter the stage as they always do: with Queen’s “We Are the Champions” playing over the PA. They seize control immediately, doing “Run The Jewels”, and then “Oh My Darling Don’t Cry”, and later “Blockbuster Night, Part 1” and “Banana Clipper.” They bark out lyrics like Southern gospel preachers while Trackstar The DJ works the decks, providing a hard-thumping backbone and flexing his turntable dexterity.

Following “Love Again (Akinyele Back)”, the track with the famed hook “She wants this dick in her mouth all day”, El-P and Killer Mike spend an inordinate amount of time trying to drive home the point that it’s not the misogynistic sex rap it’s been mistaken for. “That’s the stupidest lyric for a love song we ever wrote” says El-P. Killer Mike adds, “But don’t get it twisted; it’s a love song. And if Gangsta Boo was here she’d tell you the same thing.”

Okay guys, whatever you say.

The set, which by my estimation contains just about every RTJ song there is—including “Lie, Cheat, Steal”, “Pew, Pew, Pew”, and “All Due Respect”—closes out with a rousing rendition of “A Christmas Fucking Miracle.” And when all is said and done, the crowd is left swaying in their own sweaty puddles, kind of drunk, and in complete awe.

“Dude, that was so awesome. My brand new Jordan’s are fucked. But I can’t wait to see these guys again.”

The speaker is my friend; a young Nebraskan transplant who has just witnessed his first rap show.

Follow Nathan on Twitter at @OMG_NOB

Sick Of It All

Manning Bar

Sydney

October 10, 2015

In this very real world, good does not drive out evil.
Evil does not drive out good.
But the energetic displaces the passive.

Sick Of It All.

The quintessential live hardcore band.

In a live environment, it does not get less passive than the Koller brothers framed by Craig Ahead and Armand, the engine of the band.

Yours truly had his first clobberin' time with SOIA at the German equivalent of a youth centre in the early Nineties with no stage.

24 years later, and many encounters in between on three continents ranging from big festivals to small venues, the quartet from Queens seems to not have lost any steam

Au contraire:

SOIA seem to have somehow managed to be more agile than ever before.

---

Photo by KAVV

Lucero

Lee's Palace

Torononto, Ontario

October 15, 2015

In support of their new album All a Man Should Do, Lucero have been pulling double duty on their latest tour and playing two sets a night. Walking into Thursday’s concert at Lee’s Palace, the first of a two-day stint in celebration of the venue’s 30^th anniversary, I had a couple of questions. I was wondering whether or not after seventeen years Lucero had enough fire in their bellies to pull them through two hours of stage time. I was also wondering whether or not as a casual listener I wanted to sit through two hours of Lucero.

The show that night was solid: a well-played and well-rounded mixture of slow jams and up-tempo tacks from through out the band’s extensive catalogue. I enjoyed myself, but not half as much as the rest of the audience. This is because Lucero fans really love Lucero. I don’t mean love in the way that you might love McDonald’s soft-serve or your grandparents. I mean love in that all consuming Annie Wilkes style that makes you afraid someone is going to get stabbed.

The crowd fucking loved the show. A group of about thirty burly dudes in denim pressed themselves against the front of the stage and sang along with every goddamn word to every goddamn song. Behind them a couples danced with a reckless disregard for rhythm, holding each other close during the ballads and shaking ass during the faster tracks. The highlight of the night came when a staggering thirty something, double fisting her rum and Cokes, turned and informed me that Lucero’s singer Ben Nichols is so fucking beautiful that she can’t even fucking date anyone else in real life. She then proceeded to finish both her drinks and sprinted off into the night.

It might sound like I’m making fun of these people, but I’m not. At least not entirely. That environment is kind of amazing. Like any good punk I’ve been known to get drunk and misty to the kiss the bottle cover, but at best I had always been a casual listener of Lucero. But watching the band with those kinds of fans made me feel like I was watching something special. It was like being at a wedding if everyone at the wedding was your drunk uncle and your drunk uncle was fucking stoked on the people getting married.

It’s a cop-out on a review to state that the people who like the band enjoyed watching them play their songs. But what I’m saying is that if you get the chance to see Lucero on this tour you should probably head out and see them. The band sounded great and it’s worth the price of admission for the people watching alone.

Paradise Lost w/Tribulation and Lucifer

October 4th @ KOKO, London

Hype surrounding a band is either indicative of said band being incredibly talented and worth your time, or, on the flipside, a band that has had all the right people push them but they may not be as interesting as other similar acts out there. The support for Paradise Lost tonight includes both of those scenarios and it’s unfortunate for Lucifer that they don’t quite have the songs to back up the excitement that surrounds them. Forming from the ashes of The Oath, Johanna Sadonis went on to form this outfit, and despite the talent that resides within, Lucifer just aren’t very exciting. Songs sound too alike to really stand out and Sadonis’ stage presence feels somewhat forced. Lucifer are a watered down version of the previous band and it’s a shame that the best song of the over-long, forty minute set, comes right at the end with a delightful “Morning Star.” Time will tell whether this group will make it, and ultimately they deserve a chance as deep down this band has the capacity and passion to do so.

Tribulation on the other hand, completely justify the praise they’ve been receiving with the release of The Children of the Night earlier this year. While this Swedish band have been plying their gothic and blackened death metal style for a number of years, it seems as though 2015 has allowed their stars to finally align as their name has been on many lips (although those in the know will tell you they’ve always been this damn good) for months and the anticipation for their performance has been building in the interlude. for"Strange Gateways Beckon" marks their arrival and the following forty five minute pass by far too quickly. Frontman Johannes Andersson commands attention and his presence is a powerful reminder that substance will often win over style and when Tribulation sadly leave after their time is up, they do so with at least a thousand new fans.

The Plague Within is Paradise Lost's newest work and it's a remarkable record that pulls together everything that makes this veteran band so good. Melody, weight, sadness and small glimmers of hope permeate the album and as such, is mirrored in their performance. Nick Holmes commands the audience with wit and humilty, throwing up self-deprecating remarks and talking about how dark the material is before allowing the crowd to fall headlong into the world they have been creating for over twenty years. Paradise Lost have remained popular for that entire time with fans old and new alike embracing changes in their sound and tonight the band showcase the best of their career. 

"No Hope in Sight" begins the evening on soaring melodies and heavy instrumentation before "Widow" falls into view and takes us back to near the beginning of the band. "Gothic" follows and is a devastating reminder that Paradise Lost were the progenators of an entire genre with the Gothic album often cited as a seminal part of musical history. So much so, that it is going to be part of a special Roadburn Festival performance next year.

The past is easliy married to the present and "Terminal" and "Victim of the Past" surround "Praise Lamented Shade" and show that Paradise Lost haven't mislaid their passion for their craft. Older tracks sound as fresh as they did on first release and new tracks fit lovingly into the set. The crowd are enraptured adn the band give them absolutely everything in return with "Cry Out" inciting a mass sing-a-long and the shattering doom of "Beneath Broken Earth" bringing the mood to a devasting low. 

Tonight, Paradise Lost show exactly why they've been creating and playing music for so long - their drive and enthusiasm is clear to see and the music that pours from them is full of love and energy and deep, deep emotion. "As I Die" renders many watching breathless, and "Requiem" seals their fate. Paradise Lost fill this beautiful venue with sadness, despair and melancholy, but with that comes humanity and soul and a timeless grace.