Hyperview Turns 10

I’m a poser. I didn’t get into Title Fight until after their final (?) album, Hyperview, which turns 10 today. I’d tried to get into them a few times, listening through their discography and not understanding what was so special about a band that seemed, to me, not to stick out in a scene of similar groups that blended together post-hardcore and emo like Citizen, La Dispute, and Balance And Composure. It wasn’t until I impulsively went to see them at a small venue 15 minutes from my house that I grasped exactly what made fans worship Title Fight.

Jan. 26, 2018 - Revolution Bar & Music Hall, Amityville, NY: No one knew that this would probably be their last show, yet everyone acted with such violent fervor that you would’ve guessed that they did. It helped that the opening act was Turnstile; to say they warmed up the crowd would be an understatement. When Title Fight took the small stage, stagedivers hopped and somersaulted into the audience in a never-ending stream. Fists flung in the air to emphasize the lyrics screamed back to Ned Russin and Jamie Rhoden, and God knows how many wrists were inked with the overlapping squares from the Hyperview artwork; it was Long Island after all. I walked out of that gig a different person, an undeniably more annoying one, refusing to listen to anything but Title Fight for months and never shutting up about them for years. I thought it was fitting when Revolution Bar closed down and was turned into a church; my experiences there were revelatory and passionate enough to feel almost religious.

In a way, my life began that night. Seventeen and waiting alone on the line to get in, I met a girl with tattoos, curly hair, and perfect eyeliner who would end up being my best friend throughout my formative years. Inside, she took sips from the plastic water bottle full of vodka she snuck in and aided me with my first stagedive. We would soon drive across the country, blasting Title Fight and agreeing to follow their tour if they ever announced one.

Hailing from Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania, Title Fight is (was?) Ned Russin on bass and vocals, Jamie Rhoden on guitar and vocals, Shane Moran on guitar, and Ben Russin on drums. Their first collection of songs was 2009’s The Last Thing You Forget, which is technically an EP but an album in my heart. Twelve blistering blasts of post-hardcore make up less than a half-hour of thrashing madness (if that length disqualifies it from being able to be an album, then Joyce Manor have no albums). 2011’s Shed bursted with chaos, but it was more measured and infectious. The following year they unveiled Floral Green, a darker, shoegazy masterpiece that prioritized brooding over constant explosion. The phenomenal Spring Songs EP arrived in 2013, containing the ruthless “Blush,” maybe one of their best songs. Then came Hyperview in 2015, a polarizing dedication to shoegaze that remains their most recent release.

About the title Hyperview, Ned Russin told New Noise, “‘Hyperview’ was a term invented in the studio. Basically, we were having a discussion, and I said, ‘I’d like to invent something that can transcend beyond music and be discussed in colloquial terms rather than be associated in music contexts.’” He continued, “What I came up with is: ‘Hyperview’ is a state of existence where you can completely see the truth.”

The opener “Murder Your Memory” is the slowest track on the album, a stark contrast from their past material. It could be said all of their past records kicked off with the loudest, most angsty tracks: The Last Thing You Forget’s rapid-fire “Symmetry,” Shed’s crashing “Coxton Yard,” Floral Green’s explosive “Numb But I Still Feel It.” “Murder Your Memory” unfurls unhurriedly, the guitars translucent and tame, the vocals like whispers: “Murder all your memory/ Let it suffocate/ Reduce.” It’s a captivating start, offering this idea of a clean slate, maybe a metaphor for the band’s rebirth, which would inevitably frustrate all of the Title Fight purists and hardcore bros who didn’t want to accept this change the group was going through.

But Hyperview picks up from there. Knotty, distorted riffs run through “Chlorine,” and it doesn’t reach the volume and mayhem Title Fight used to reach, but it’s a sound that’s uniquely theirs. And like with the rest of their music, you might have to witness it live to truly believe in it, to feel its power. The guitars feel less like sounds than they do vibrations; Hyperview is echoey, a reverberation of itself, almost dreamlike. “I like abusing the effects a little bit,” Moran told us in 2015. “I don’t want to be bashful about it and have it come across like, ‘We kind of want to go in this direction but we’re scared.’ I would just rather do it almost obnoxiously and be proud of it. How do you use an effect pedal and put 10 percent on it?” In that same interview, the band reveals that a theremin was used as well, which I would love to know more about.

"Rose Of Sharon" is an upbeat excursion, intensified by its following track, “Trace Me Onto You," my favorite moment on the LP. It moves like a river with an indomitable current, yielding only when it wants to. It’s maybe the fastest part of Hyperview; it surges with a sense of unrestrained ecstasy and every member sounds present and completely unified in this free-flowing catharsis. When it relents, Ned sings, “I don’t want to see things differently,” elongating the syllables, the words surprisingly audible, vaguely meaningful but, more importantly, easy to shout along to.

The end of Hyperview descends deeper into delirium. On the elastic "Liar's Love," dazed riffs accompany Ned's repeated refrain, "Don't count on me/ I'm not what you need." The last few seconds of that track drip into the lush "Dizzy," on which the guitars sway back and forth like calm waves. "New Vision" serves as a clamorous finale, one last riptide. Whether or not they knew it would be a farewell, it sure fits as one: "Tranquil rest/ Peace in death," Rhoden exhales.

2015 was smack in the middle of when heavy bands began picking up distortion pedals and choosing to mellow down. 2014: Tigers Jaw toned down their reckless, buoyant emo with the mature, menacing Charmer. 2016: Turnover traded chaotic pop-punk for dream-pop with Peripheral Vision. None of Title Fight’s albums got a Pitchfork review except for Hyperview, aside from the Springs Songs EP, both well-received. Tigers Jaw didn’t get a Pitchfork review until Charmer, and Turnover didn’t until Peripheral Vision. Was shifting genres the only way to be noticed by critics?

By the time Hyperview was released, Title Fight had been around for 12 years. I have a habit of asking random people if they like Title Fight as a sort of icebreaker. I’ve found that often the answer is either, “Who?” or “Yeah, they played my house.” They were not only a staple in their hometown of Wilkes-Barre where a Hyperview mural remains a Mecca for post-hardcore nerds (I once made the three and a half hour trek, of course), but they’re one of the most revered bands in the genre. Their albums are all different, but the leap is biggest with Hyperview. “I’d hope that anyone would be able to see it’s authentic, it makes sense within the band, and that there’s effort behind it. That’s all I could ask for,” Ned told New Noise.

Here we are, 10 years later, without any Title Fight material since. Ned has been making music as Glitterer since 2017, which started as an experimental, almost bedroom-pop project before growing into a full-band that plays rippers not unlike what Title Fight put out. Last year’s Rationale was full of shredding and shouting that recalled Title Fight, but the Title Fight-sized hole in fans’ hearts simply wants one thing: Title Fight. Fans feel entitled to their comeback. Since Hyperview, Balance And Composure broke up and reunited; Superheaven were resuscitated after going viral on TikTok; Whirr quietly returned; Pity Sex may or may not be active again. Even Oasis got back together before Title Fight. At this point, people are more annoying about Title Fight out of a sense of betrayal, like they’re being personally wronged. When the band drops new merch, they have to disable the comments. I wouldn't get back together if I were them either, merely out of spite.

Title Fight's influence can be heard all over, especially in bands like One Step Closer and Spite House. Before Ethel Cain ascended into the enigmatic pop sensation she is now, she sampled Title Fight's "Head In The Ceiling Fan" on her 2019 Golden Age track "Head In The Wall." Fiddlehead — fronted by Have Heart's Pat Flynn — have been the band closest to filling the Title Fight-sized void in my heart, and their shows are as insane as that Title Fight gig was. Every time I see Fiddlehead, it's all flying limbs and pure mayhem, which is, in my opinion, the best way to experience live music.

At the end of the day, Title Fight did what every band hopes to do: They left behind a perfect discography and continue to have a singular, admirable legacy. I would love to hear what new Title Fight would even sound like, or be in an ardent crowd of Title Fight worshippers thrashing their bodies around again. But if that never happens, I’ll live. I was lucky enough to experience it once. I am who I am today because of it.