| ‘Tragedy’ loves company
Plenty of musicians will say that the fans are the reason they do what they do. But there’s more at stake for Titus Andronicus singer Patrick Stickles.
“All I’m trying to do is get kids through one more day,” he says, “through one more lonely, dark night of the soul.” The latest Titus album, “The Most Lamentable Tragedy,” could have been scientifically engineered to do just that. It’s a sprawling five-act rock opera about manic depression, a condition for which Stickles is currently taking medication. Though he sings bleak lyrics like “I hate to be awake” and “Suicide seems superior than trying to survive,” his anthemic melodies and the driving rock of his band make such defeatist statements crackle with catharsis. Stickles has been dealing with mental health issues in his songs since Titus’s 2008 debut, “The Airing of Grievances,” and as he has grown increasingly comfortable singing about his problems, he’s also seen an increase in the number of people who feel comfortable opening up to him after shows about their own battles with mental illness. “It’s a very important and blessed honor and privilege to serve the kids that way,” he says, his voice beginning to waver the way it does on his band’s most moving recordings. “When [life] is hard, I think about all my kids across America who looked me in the eyes and told me what was in their hearts, and I carry that strength with me every day through every decision, and there’s plenty of times when I want to give up — but I just can’t.” By this point he is in tears.
“I’m not crying because I’m sad, I’m crying because these are big feelings,” he says. “Sometimes feelings are so big that you do have to cry, and that’s fine, even for a big, grown-up, tough-guy rock star like me.” It’s hard to know whether Stickles, who will lead Titus Andronicus in a sold-out show Thursday at Brighton Music Hall, truly considers himself a grown-up, a tough guy, or a rock star. You get the feeling from talking to him that he’s trying to figure out whether he even wants to be any of these things. “I’ve got issues and problems, and I’m trying to do better, and it’s a lifelong process,” he says. “But in the meantime, this danger in my life is my most valuable asset. Thank God the band knows what they’re doing.” The band members do indeed know what they’re doing, and they’re at their best on “The Most Lamentable Tragedy” when they musically mimic the manic state that Stickles describes. “Funny Feeling” begins at about 60 beats per minute and finishes at twice that tempo, taking listeners for an exhilarating ride through the psychotic psyche. “Dimed Out” roars with punk-rock recklessness, as crunchy guitars ride alongside a string arrangement that seems to represent the clarity one feels when mania sets in. “People think it’s a disorder, but in the mind of the so-called sufferer, the order is painfully clear and the torture is that nobody else can see,” Stickles explains. “I just wanted to be helpful to anybody that feels that way.” “Dimed out” means all levels pushed to 10: as apt a description of a Titus live performance as you could want. But not everything in the Titus Andronicus universe is dimed out. The group’s albums include instances of playful wit and well-plotted themes. Many songs on the band’s four releases have some variation of “No Future” in their titles; one is “No Future Part Two: The Day After No Future.” Stickles also indulges in philosophical musings and seamlessly brings tangential literary and cultural references into the mix. A conversation with the singer goes pretty much the same way. He spends more time than what might be considered conversationally appropriate on topics such as prescription paranoia and corporate domination. Profound statements are frequently followed by second guessing. He says “Ya know wha’am sayin’?” like a rapper upward of 50 times in a 50-minute conversation. He is manically introspective, and often critical of what he sees within. “I’m particularly difficult, I admit, and if there’s a reason why we’ve had so many members, that would have to be it,” he says of the 14 players who have left the band over 10 years. “But see, that’s my big trick: I’ve built my unreliability into the aesthetic of this band. This band doesn’t sell the perfect, polished product; this band is in the business of selling danger.” Elio DeLuca, who runs Medford recording studio the Soul Shop, is the band’s most recent full-time member. But he’s known Stickles since before the band started, and has been guesting on Titus albums since their debut. “I don’t think he’s particularly difficult,” says DeLuca of Stickles. “Clearly he’s extraordinarily self-aware, so you have the capacity to be really hard on yourself when those situations arise.” If Stickles is hard on himself, it is those fans that soften him. He says their words of affirmation have given him a sense of responsibility to carry on, despite his darkest impulses. “I feel like I’ve got a lot to live for, and even if I’m not always the happiest guy in the world, I’m just about the luckiest guy in the world,” he says. “I maybe sound like I’m being a little dramatic, but that [stuff] keeps me going, that love, that’s real nourishment.”Back |
