The best rock shows often teem with an energy that reaffirms the joy of being alive. Saturday at Metro, Titus Andronicus turned feelings of crushing defeat into triumphant survival. Playing as if their lives depended on it, the New Jersey quintet railed against enemies real and imagined, refusing to give into social alienation all the while acknowledging personal indignity with lacerating wit and self-deprecating humor.
Anchored by singer/guitarist Patrick Stickles, whose frizzy beard looked thicker than the limbs on his scrawny frame, the band is attracting attention for its blend of punk-fueled aggression, soulful ambition and literary narratives. The enthusiasm was evident from the start. Unable to stay still, members wiggled, hopped, and skipped in response to the sonic uproar, somehow remaining in control of their instruments.
Clinging to desperation, Stickles howled at the outside world and at himself, his voice quivering with frustration, discontent and sarcasm. Occasionally, it seemed his head might explode as a result of shouting torrents of non-repeating lines on racing fare such as “Arms Against Atrophy.” The group’s decision to slow the pace midway through the 80-minute set appeared more necessary than deliberate. Not that the delirium abated.
Gang choruses, feverish crescendos and military-march beats permeated songs that passed for shambolic Irish jigs and rallying battle cries. Amy Klein’s multi-purpose violin lent mournful poignancy to “The Battle of Hampton Roads” and hillbilly twang to “Theme From ‘Cheers.’ ” Rousing chants and swirling melodies added to the surge. “It’s still us against them!,” Stickles wailed on the closing “Four Score and Seven,” exiting with a unifying divide-and-conquer strategy.
Promising openers Best Coast explored the savory euphoria and debilitating loneliness associated with heartsick romances via simple, catchy pop. Sounding more substantial and heavier than on record, the co-ed trio’s reverb-dipped guitars and girl-group hooks conveyed a daydream innocence further enhanced by leader Bethany Cosentino’s vocal purr.
Yet Best Coast was all business. Aside from telling a quick story about Monica Lewinsky and dedicating “Boyfriend” to a fan that tweeted his plans to propose at the concert, Cosentino focused on her delivery, singing at measured clips that underscored her sensual yearning and emotional sincerity.