There are multiple universes. For the purposes of our discussion here let's focus on two. There's The Universe. You know. The big picture. Everything. And, then, there's the universe that everyone lives in inside their own heads.
At some point, you realize either, like Titus Andronicus frontman Patrick Stickles on "Ecce Homo", that "there's nothing in [T]he [U]niverse with any kind of objective purpose" or that you're too small and insignificant for it to matter whether or not that's actually true. That leaves you to exert control over your own smaller universe.
On 2010's, The Monitor, Patrick Stickles chronicled the emotional turmoil caused by the dissolution of his relationship and placed it all into the context of the American Civil War. The album's title, a literal reference to the Union's ironclad warship, suggests introspection, self-analysis, and a focus on that inner universe. I was forty years old then. Patrick Stickles wrote those songs in his early twenties. The empathy that I felt for "our hero" on that record wasn't of the "hey, Patrick, I've been there" variety. Instead, it was, "I'm fifteen years older than you, and I still have these feelings all the time." I still question my present and fear my future. The civil war between my heart and my head still rages. So maybe it's possible that there's something, I don't know, universal about all of our personal, little universes.
Local Business finds Patrick Stickles comfortable with, or at least resigned to, his place in The Universe. Once that's out of the way, he can look at what his values are and start to construct his inner universe around them. He self-deprecatingly refers to himself as a "relevant dude" or a "drop in a deluge of hipsters," making fun of image-conscious, indie, blog-rock culture while still acknowledging that he and his band are part of it. He observes drivers moving past a fatal car accident so wrapped up in their own universes that they can only grit their teeth and curse the fact that the wreck is keeping them from their next appointment or their coffee, and you get the sense that he hopes he can be different. His own eating disorder becomes a metaphor for taking control of moral decisions as he sings, "I decide what goes inside my body."
Like The Monitor, Local Business is packed with references. Most importantly, though, there are several references back to the first two Titus Andronicus LP's. Through song titles ("Upon Viewing Oregon's Landscape with the Flood of Detritus") and lyrics ("1-2-3-4-5-6-7 angels don't come around no more"), Stickles connects all three albums and provides context for his developing world view.
Local Business is dense thematically and lyrically; but it's, above all, a rock and roll record with a sense of humor. The record explores the inherent meaninglessness of our place in the universe through songs with titles like "Still Life with Hot Deuce and Silver Platter" or "Titus Andronicus vs. The Absurd Universe (3rd Round TKO)." It includes several fist-pump ready, pop punk sing-a-long opportunities, pounding drum intros, and big guitar solos. I've already seen a few of the songs performed live, and they're scorchers.
Local Business follows a pattern set by another New Jersey rocker. It's a follow-up to an almost overly-ambitious, unfollowuppable, critical success that tones down some of the epic feel of its predecessor. Local Business may not have as many revelatory moments as The Monitor, but its relative economy makes it a success on its own terms. And even within those tighter confines, Local Business is able to get a forty-two year-old head nodding along with the album's twenty-seven year-old narrator. "What I did, I did / Who I am, I am / Then a stupid kid / Now a stupid man." Keep on working, Patrick. It doesn't get any easier.
You can stream Local Business, which comes out next week on XL Recordings, until its release over at NPR.
