Patrick Stickles must see in Craig Finn a future version of himself — the one who survives. Stickles turned 30 on July 28 last year, the same day his New Jersey band Titus Andronicus released its fourth album, a 29-song, 93-minute, Shakespeare-burning rock opera titled The Most Lamentable Tragedy (Merge). Finn was 29 when he disbanded Lifter Puller, moved from Minnesota to New York City and took a two-year break from making music before forming The Hold Steady, whose micro-detailed lyric sheets read like both a running color commentary and a preordained prophecy of Stickles' in-the-shit existentialism. Finn titled his second solo LP Faith in the Future (Partisan), as if he's trying to rewrite the dead ending of "No Future"/"The Days After No Future," the rotting core of Titus' 2008 debut The Airing of Grievances. (Cue Camus: "It was as if that great rush of anger had washed me clean, emptied me of hope, and, gazing up at the dark sky spangled with its signs and stars, for the first time, the first, I laid my heart open to the benign indifference of the universe.") Finn first showed up as a sort of guardian angel on Titus' second album, Civil War vessel The Monitor, quoting Whitman's "Vigil Strange I Kept on the Field One Night" as if tucking Stickles in before the big sleep. Now they're touring together — the narrator introducing the antagonist — in a discursive twin bill that deposits all that anxiety in a rude-dug grave: "No Faith, No Future, No Problem." Tickets $12.