Can passion be substituted for virtually
every other attribute that characterizes good music? Many would
point to Conor Oberst as proof that it can, but personally, I
remain unconvinced by his albums, which range from enjoyable to
embarrassingly droll. Especially more recently, he's tended to
overlook the fact that if you're gonna make emotion be the core-attraction
of your music, you shouldn't drown it out with string sections
and excess compositional prowess. If someone's gonna stake out
the claim that emotion trumps content, I say they should instead
turn to Titus Andronicus, whose dedication to fervor and fire
is only further strengthened by their muscular, musical simplicity.
It's appropriate that I should open a review
for The Airing of Grievances with a mention of Conor, because
the lead vocalist of Titus Andronicus has a raspy and emotive
voice that recalls the indie boy-wonder at his most searing, longing
and corrosively punk-damaged. Unlike Bright Eyes, however, which
too often contrasted Conor's quavering voice with spotless pop,
the enraged and implosive screams and gang-shouts on The Airing
of Grievances are perfectly appropriate for the music. The bulk
of the album is made up of Flogging Molly-esque bar anthems that
recall Punk in terms of volume and energy, but bring to mind The
Hold Steady's dedication to painting pervasive pictures of parties
and recklessness. In other words, these songs are freaking loud.
The band begins with their amps at 11 and get progressively louder,
nearly falling apart under the weight of every member plowing
a single progression into the ground. They milk anthemic hooks
for all they're worth, riding them through enough repetition and
hot-blooded delivery of notebook poetry to thrust you into nostalgia,
pining for long lost urges of youthful abandon.
You see, this album is nothing, if not
a soundtrack for growing up, and particularly in the Western World.
You can hear the Fourth of July fireworks sparking off in the
opening rush of "Albert Camus". The two sections of
"No Future" reek from traces of American rooted pride
and honor in their traditional structures and melodies. Matched
with the band's bleeding angst, fury and disquieting readings
of Albert Camus, it feels like a mean-spirited satire on whatever
this country is supposed to stand for - an extension of the idealism
and anarchistic rage that develops when you're young and just
learning the world's unfairness. Perhaps I'm reading too deeply
into what many will justifiably ingest as bar-rock, but the band's
wonderfully cryptic and poetic nature invites these kinds of interpretations.
And as easy as it is to be resistant to
music like this that wears it's heart and mind on it's sleeves,
nothing really succeeds without some sort of emotional backing.
I hope that The Airing of Grievances manages to convince the more
hard-hearted people out there to accept sincerity at face value.
It's okay to have feelings. It's okay to be philosophical. And
it's perfectly possible to write a bare-bones, vulgar, kick-ass
drinking album in the process. (Aron Fischer)
For
fans of: Beer. And also, Los Campesinos!, Flogging Molly, Bright
Eyes, Bruce Springsteen, Sex Pistols, The Hold Steady, Arcade
Fire
|
