Review — Titus Andronicus at Strange Matter in Richmond, 3/6/12

A couple of blocks away from Virginia Commonwealth University's Monroe Campus, there's a black-and-red clad dive on the top of West Grace Street. Inside, you'll find fan art of Super Mario at "The Last Supper." Pabst Blue Ribbon is less than $2, and a swarm of students are ready to acknowledge that they'll always be losers.


Or, at least they'll acknowledge this the next day. But Tuesday night, Titus Andronicus was on stage, and 300 people were shouting, "You'll always be a loser!" at the top of their lungs. It's not a death sentence; rather, it's a challenge to rise to the occasion.


So goes the barroom chorus to "No Future, Part Three," Titus Andronicus' opening song to Tuesday night's performance in downtown Richmond. It's an apt town for the band; the band's 2010 release "The Monitor" was a concept album comparing a bad breakup to the Civil War.


Here's the rub: Titus' fans are losers. They're not — as a whole — dislikable, rude, ignorant, stupid, annoying or dumb. They are, however, alienated. But, as many punk acts go, that culminating sense of failure is developed into loudly-shouted anthems, Titus Andronicus' definitive forté.


As warmed up as the crowd could get with openers Screaming Females and Diarrhea Planet, there was nothing that could compare to the heat of the bar's dwarfed but crowded pit. 


Familiar songs were embedded in a mostly new set, complete with "Upon Viewing Oregon’s Landscape with the Flood of Detritus (Andronicus)," a tour-de-force worthy of a fist-pumping "Oi, oi, oi!" and — more importantly — the crowd's stamp of approval. The ratio of new songs to old may have been alienating for some listeners, but many would still consider them headbang-worthy.


Launching into a cover of "The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down" is a rarity — the first of any Titus Andronicus show, Stickles tells us — but well-received. In the distance, one hears the glasses smash and rebel yells are punctuated through the air.


So there were parts of Titus Andronicus' visit that felt unfamiliar. But it's the South, and we're known for our hospitality. We know that "the enemy is everywhere," but nobody seems to be worried or cared. 


And by the time everyone is screaming, "Baby, we were born to die!" from "A More Perfect Union," who doesn't feel like a loser? And, as any fan knows, that's OK.