Portlanders? Connecticans? You Can't Tell the Difference.
  • Portlanders? Connecticans? You Can't Tell the Difference.

Greetings from Connecticut, a state that requires from me a seven-hour plane pilgrimage twice a year to reunite with family, friends and grade school teachers at bars. Connecticut is not known for much besides Nutmeg (it's "The Nutmeg State"), revolutionary traitor/breakfast fan Benedict Arnold and rogue Congressman Joe Lieberman (who are not the same person, believe it or not); I think it's about time that changes.

Why? Because Connecticut is essentially a smaller, slightly less dynamic version of Portland. It's true. People grow beards in the winter, drive European automobiles and recycle their yogurt containers. But most importantly, Connecticut's music scene is sort of like Portland's, minus a few thousand bands (and thus all of the clawing and fighting for the limelight).

Let us travel an hour east through New York City's giant suburban shadow to the rather urban New Haven, CT, for a look at art rock experimentalists Titles. You might think you've seen them play in town before, though you most certainly have not. I don't know when Titles last crossed state lines to play a show. Which is surprising, considering singer Brad Amorosino's impressive songwriting and simple croon, the wonderfully lush guitar tones and the tact with which they blend the elements of dark and light in their music. I seriously cannot think of one band that Titles sounds like; they're working off their own palate. Why aren't these guys blowing the impressionable minds of listeners all across the country?

Titles have a few solid records that are available for purchase at Safety Meeting Records and their latest gem, Dirt Bell, is due to hit the trunks of Volvos (with Connecticut license plates) in early 2010. For now, here are a couple teaser tracks from aforementioned record:

LISTEN:

Titles - "Pillowcase"


Titles - "Nigh Owls"

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get back to work on my family's Nutmeg plantation before I can head downtown and avoid awkward encounters with high school guidance counselors (who apparently did me no good). Be back soon, Portland...