On their debut The Airing Of Grievances, New Jersey band Titus Andronicus were every bit as visceral and bloody-minded as the Shakespeare play from which they took their name. On their second album The Monitor, the band put their bristling energy to a concept loosely based around the American Civil War (the USS Monitor was the first american ironclad warship) and extend it to a 65 minute magnum opus, culminating in a 14-minute closer entitled The Battle of Hampton Roads. The end result is as exuberant and overblown as you might imagine. It's also absolutely brilliant.
Musically, as with their debut, the Monitor is a similar heady mix of E-Street Band and the drunken swagger and jiggery of the Pogues, whilst the spleen-venting of Patrick Stickles still closely resembles the Conor Oberst of Desaparecidos (and thankfully not that of the Mystic Valley Band). There's a greater range of instrumentation here, including horns, honky-tonk piano, and even a bagpipe. In keeping with the album's premise, Shakespeare quotations are out in favour of quotes from various historical figures of the US Civil War. In truth, the album doesn't even need its concept to hold together as well as it does (and whilst Springsteen's getting on a bit, I think name-checking him in an album based 150 years in the past is stretching it a bit), as it's literally rife with drunken singalongs and reprises which stitch everything together. Inspite of the rich instrumentation, the Monitor feels like it could have been laid down in a single alcohol-fuelled session.
Half of the brilliance with Titus Andronicus is that they juxtapose misery and self-loathing with the most rousing music possible. It's the sound of a band with their backs to the walls and nothing to lose. "I'm at the end of my rope, and I feel like swinging" scowls Stickles on the slow-burning intro for A Pot In Which To Piss, before the track kick-starts into life. That's just one example of the many quotable lines from this album, with every listen seemingly throwing up fresh ones.
Not that the band are unable to throttle back once in a while. The aching lament of To Old Friends And New (featuring Vivian Girl Cassie Ramone) is particularly affecting, and is a welcome moment of calm before the storm of the aforementioned closer The Battle of Hampton Roads where the band throws everything at the wall: ukeleles, military-style drums and ultimately a bag-pipe solo. Amazingly, everything sticks.
Quite simply, this is the most fun I've had with a new release since I don't know when. To maintain such levels of catharsis over an hour-plus running time is some feat, but Titus Andronicus have pulled it off with ease. Better still, it's an album that can be enjoyed communally: not only does Theme From Cheers sound like an endearingly drunken karaoke session amongst friends, it sounds like it should be enjoyed in the same spirit. From start to finish, an exhilirating album, and a landmark moment for this young band.
Musically, as with their debut, the Monitor is a similar heady mix of E-Street Band and the drunken swagger and jiggery of the Pogues, whilst the spleen-venting of Patrick Stickles still closely resembles the Conor Oberst of Desaparecidos (and thankfully not that of the Mystic Valley Band). There's a greater range of instrumentation here, including horns, honky-tonk piano, and even a bagpipe. In keeping with the album's premise, Shakespeare quotations are out in favour of quotes from various historical figures of the US Civil War. In truth, the album doesn't even need its concept to hold together as well as it does (and whilst Springsteen's getting on a bit, I think name-checking him in an album based 150 years in the past is stretching it a bit), as it's literally rife with drunken singalongs and reprises which stitch everything together. Inspite of the rich instrumentation, the Monitor feels like it could have been laid down in a single alcohol-fuelled session.
Half of the brilliance with Titus Andronicus is that they juxtapose misery and self-loathing with the most rousing music possible. It's the sound of a band with their backs to the walls and nothing to lose. "I'm at the end of my rope, and I feel like swinging" scowls Stickles on the slow-burning intro for A Pot In Which To Piss, before the track kick-starts into life. That's just one example of the many quotable lines from this album, with every listen seemingly throwing up fresh ones.
Not that the band are unable to throttle back once in a while. The aching lament of To Old Friends And New (featuring Vivian Girl Cassie Ramone) is particularly affecting, and is a welcome moment of calm before the storm of the aforementioned closer The Battle of Hampton Roads where the band throws everything at the wall: ukeleles, military-style drums and ultimately a bag-pipe solo. Amazingly, everything sticks.
Quite simply, this is the most fun I've had with a new release since I don't know when. To maintain such levels of catharsis over an hour-plus running time is some feat, but Titus Andronicus have pulled it off with ease. Better still, it's an album that can be enjoyed communally: not only does Theme From Cheers sound like an endearingly drunken karaoke session amongst friends, it sounds like it should be enjoyed in the same spirit. From start to finish, an exhilirating album, and a landmark moment for this young band.
92/100
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