Scruffy and the Janitors give more to get more

On an unforgivably hot afternoon, the three members of St. Joseph’s Scruffy & the Janitors share a pack of Old Gold cigarettes on a coffeehouse patio in midtown. Brothers Teriq and Trevin Newton are hung-over. Drummer Trevin Newton, his tattered ski cap pulled down over blond locks despite the heat, looks surly. Steven Foster, the band’s lead singer and bassist, leans back in his seat, trying to find shade.

We’ve assembled to discuss the trio’s new EP, Anglo, out June 13 on This Tall Records. It’s the band’s first release since 2012’s Pino, a jagged scuzz of blues and garage rock recorded in guitarist Teriq Newton’s living room. That set showed promising young talent pushing its way to the surface, and the album’s positive response, which none of the then-teenage band members expected, gave Scruffy & the Janitors the drive to keep writing.

This time around, the group — its members all now older than 18 but younger than 22 — has opted for an upgrade. The four songs on Anglo were recorded at St. Joseph’s KileyCo Studios. The rudimentary scrapes and scratches that marked Pino have been smoothed out of the band’s sound. But Anglo is far from polished; if anything, the music has gotten more raucous and coarse.

“The first album was made up of the first songs that we had ever written in our lives,” Teriq Newton says. “I like it, I stand by it, but it’s pretty lo-fi. We were trying to figure out how to write: where to put the melodies, how to make it happen. I think we’re much better at that now. These new songs — we have a better idea of what we’re doing, of how we want to sound. We’re shifting toward a rock sound right now, and it’s really exciting to hear that with us.”

Before, Scruffy & the Janitors’ guitar riffs showed a Delta-blues influence. The attitude on Anglo calls for restless chord progressions that move faster, piercing the music with steel-edged rock and roll. On “Ms. Crucio,” a quick-tempered rhythm flares as Foster tries out a harsh growl. “Shake It Off,” a scorching ode to the end of a friendship, hangs on distorted electric-guitar notes that sound furious. And a driving mania that recalls White Stripes–era Jack White fuels the crunchy “Dirtleg.” It’s tetchy, angry stuff, and it feels good.

Foster, the primary songwriter and lyricist, isn’t used to explaining his music. When I ask him about Anglo‘s sometimes bitter taste, he shifts and pauses before answering. “I get pissed off really easily,” he says. “I’m like Taylor Swift. I just write songs about what I feel.” He and Teriq Newton share a laugh at this before Foster continues: “Someone stabbed me in the back, and that gave us most of this EP. These songs are just about burning off steam. Everybody’s been there. And Teriq told me never to write a love song again, and now I can’t. He ruined me.”

Newton bristles at this good-natured accusation: “That was a long time ago!”

As the de facto bandleader, Teriq Newton handles the business of the band, and he usually answers first when I ask the guys questions about their music. No one in the group, though, is particularly outgoing. This, Teriq Newton says, is how it has always been.

“Me and Steve were in high school together and were the quiet kids in school,” he explains. “We never talked to each other until we graduated and started playing together. We were too shy. But music breaks all that down. You can do whatever you want onstage. And we always want to be onstage.”

Teriq squints in the sunlight and shakes uncombed blond hair away from his face. His air is casual, but there’s also a sharp glint of determination in his eyes as he talks about the group. Part of that comes from having grown up in St. Joseph.

“St. Jo kind of sucks,” he says. “The music scene is great, for what it is — it’s close-knit and supportive — but the town itself, I don’t know. It’s so slow and such a small town, and our music is angry because we want more out of life. There’s nothing to do there apart from go to shows and go bowling. And we want more than that.”