Showing posts with label metz. Show all posts
Showing posts with label metz. Show all posts

Monday, October 18, 2021

Monday Roundup #40

In the absence of concert listings, my regular Monday dispatches have fallen off. After bringing some life to the blog with the "bumping into" series, I figure I should get back in the groove. I'm guessing that this will be a bit like what used to get shoved into the end of the post when I was doing listings — some bandcamp suggestions, nods to a few livestreams, and sundry community notes (email me if you have anything that needs broadcast in the latter category!). Plus maybe a look back through the MFS archives.


Community notes:

  • Went to my first indoor shows in seventeen months over the weekend. Felt weird, a bit stressful, but... okay? Nice to hear sounds/see people, in any case, so hopefully places that are running events safely and conscientiously can keep putting them on. Even with the latest (corporate-driven) easing of restrictions it's still difficult for venues to operate, and places that depend on primarily-standing crowds are still facing pretty drastic limitations.
  • And thinking of much-missed venues, The Tranzac is holding its AGM tonight (Monday, October 18th), and members in good standing can join in via zoom. I've been hearing good things about the soundproofing and renovations that have been undertaken during the downtime, so hopefully the meeting will have an update on re-opening plans as well.
  • The Women From Space Festival is planning to return (in person and via livestream) in March 2022 and have just put for a Call For Artists — check out their site for more details.

Livestream nation:

  • The fourth episode in Understory's "improvisation-driven, 'exquisite corpse'-style remote collaborations" is unveiled this week with two trios, consisting of Elysha Poirier/Tim Crofts/Lori Freedman and Ben Grossman/Emily Kennedy/Yunjin Claire Lee. Check it out on Thursday (October 21st) at their site.

Video hits:

  • There's some stylishly-repurposed silent movie footage in this new video from Clara Engel's Dressed in Borrowed Light:

Bandcamp corner:

  • if some of the funk-warble grooves on Del Stephen's recent O Awe Morning Record, are "jams", then they're cozy, homespun kitchen party jams. They sit well with the more atmospheric, field recording-based pieces — while I was out walking around with this album last week, I kept looking over my shoulder to look for the geese that I was hearing flying by.

It happened this week...

Speaking of local venues figuring out to make shows work under the current restrictions, The Garrison has re-opened its doors, just in time to celebrate its 12th anniversary. That's striking, as it somehow still seems fairly new in my mind. I haven't been back yet, but here's some memories, including audio from my first-ever visit in 2009 (as well as from this week one year later):

  • ...on October 23, 2009 at The Garrison.

Six Finger Satellite - Rome From Home

  • ... on October 24, 2010 at The Garrison.

METZ - Dry Up

[Do remember that you can click on the tags below to go back and find the original posts (and often, more stuff) from these artists.]

Saturday, May 18, 2013

Recording: METZ

Artist: METZ

Songs: Wasted + [new song #2]*

Recorded at Lee's Palace, May 17, 2013.

METZ - Wasted

METZ - [new song #2]

Full review to follow. Returning home after a long stretch on tour, it was truly exciting to see METZ anchoring a sold-out night of grassroots T.O. talent. Moving up to a bigger room, it's striking to see that the bands haven't changed — well, they've gotten better — but to see local DIY culture on a scale like this is meaningful, dammit.

* Does anyone know the title to this one? Please leave a comment!

Saturday, October 13, 2012

Recording: METZ

Artist: METZ

Songs: Get Off + Sad Pricks

Recorded at The Horseshoe Tavern, October 12, 2012.

METZ - Get Off

METZ - Sad Pricks

Full review to follow. A well-deserved celebration for local-lads-gone-big-time METZ, celebrating the release of their long-gestating debut album on the venerable Sup Pop label. Despite bouncing around on stage like electrons in a higher valence, the bandmembers make a strong case against atomisation, exhibiting a joyful we're-in-this-together spirit — whether showing concern for the audience or repping their hometown. Call 'em model citizens who play hard but don't need to front hard — I'm proud that they'll be heading out as ambassadors of our city.

Monday, February 20, 2012

Currente calamo: The Wavelength TWELVE! Festival (Part I)

TWELVE: The Wavelength 12th Anniversary Festival

While it's all fresh in my mind, a few notes from this year's WL Fest. Longer, more comprehensive reviews will follow down the road a piece.

Last year's Wavelength festival had a transitional feel, just as WL itself did in shedding its old skin as a weekly series and trying on new formats like so many hats. But throughout 2011, Wavelength really gained strength, with new blood on the programming team and a willingness to try some new and interesting things. It's befitting, then, that this year's festival was more streamlined (down to four nights) and bold in its lineups, reaching out to some bigger acts for the headliners while still mixing in a lot of newer, less-well-known names.

Night 1 @ The Shop under Parts & Labour

Thursday, February 16, 2012. Eucalyptus / Man Made Hill / Slim Twig / Odonis Odonis / METZ

Wavelength is at its best when putting together shows with bands that wouldn't normally be on the same bill. So there was a particularly tasty Wavelength-esque frisson to see calypso-jazz travelers Eucalyptus opening up the festival in the bomb-shelter basement at Parts + Labour. The joint is currently looking fabulous, by the way, thanks to Ivy Lovell's photo installation covering the walls. With a half-dozen players squeezed on the low-lying stage (and a double bass that barely cleared the ceiling on the floor beside it), this is exactly the sort of band that the venue is not designed for, but as the crowd filtered in, Brodie West and company's undulating grooves filled the space up pretty well. I'm pretty partial to the band anyway, so I was definitely getting a kick out of it all — almost as much as the one punk dude who came up front to dance away to the band.

A stylistic lurch after that for Man Made Hill's squelchy mutant dance pop, which packed a certain sort of mind-melting punch. An interesting visual presentation for music that was a little bit like Off the Wall re-imagined after a weekend bender of brown acid and expired cough syrup.

From there, the night played out more like a typical evening at P+L, with sets from Slim Twig, Odonis Odonis and METZ. Slim Twig's new band continues to gel along with his pop sensibilities. The Farfisa-powered grooves were sounding totally fabulous, and couldn't even be disrupted when, in a somewhat random moment, Blake Howard (who'd been playing percussion in Eucalyptus) took to the stage mid-song and seized the microphone to speak to the crowd.

It was finally getting pretty packed up front for Odonis Odonis, who brought some zig-zaggling projections to accompany their electro-surfgaze jams. The songs sound like dispatches from an alternate universe where the JAMC's Automatic redefined the pop music paradigm, and OO took the next evolutionary step of ledging it up with shouty brio.

Listen to a track from this set here.

Closing out the night, METZ delivered their jesuslizard rockstabs with their typical efficiency, encouraging a crowd that was now thick and pulsating on all sides.

Night 2 @ Steam Whistle Brewing

Friday, February 17, 2012. Hut / Silver Dapple / catl / Bonjay / Fucked Up

A shift in scale for night two as the action moved down to the roundhouse on Bremner Blvd. A lot more elbow room and a bigger canvas for General Chaos to project his light paintings. I was actually a little surprised to see Hut up on the big stage — the last time I saw 'em at a WL they decided to rock it right on the floor of The Garrison. But going for the "professional" set up worked well for Daniel Lee's scrap-pop crew, who were now carrying a drummer with a full kit to supplement Daniel Woodhead's stand-up percussion. A slightly muddy house sound kinda suited their M.O. well — to steal a line from Xgau, listening to Hut is a little like operating a bulldozer while playing a Bacharach tape.

I'd been looking forward to hearing Montréal's Silver Dapple for a little while now, based on some of their music coming through the internet. In a world where bands like Yuck are making a splash, this quartet could do pretty well for themselves with their 90's-styled alt-rock jams. Melding controlled distortion to catchy tunes, the band wasn't particularly flashy on stage, but they totally pressed the right buttons for me.

Listen to a track from this set here.

Though I dropped in on one of their acoustic duo sets not too long ago, I hadn't seen local blues-punk titans catl since Andrew Moszynski took over the drum chair. And while the band still knows how to push in and push out — there was an admirably scuzzy run through old fave "Caroline" — it sounds like Moszynski brings a different dimension to the band's more restrained material. A fine set, but I won't feel like I've gotten the full measure of the new material until I see 'em in closer quarters, getting hot and sweaty. With their new album on the horizon, there should be plenty chances coming up.

Speaking of new drummers, this wouldn't be the first time I've seen Bonjay with Kieran Adams on live drum kit, but it was the most punch I've heard since he joined, with some songs being stripped back almost to bare throbbing rhythms. In fact, all three members were playing with intense hunger, and bringing something new to the table. Beat-provider Pho now has a MIDI keyboard alongside his MPC's, creating new sonic possibilities, and vocalist Alanna Stuart was, simply put, on fire throughout, culminating in a powerful shout to end the set that she claimed was inspired by the night's headliners. There were a couple brand-new songs ("Medicine From Melancholy" was one) that went over really well. A triumphant set, though it felt like the crowd was a bit more reserved than the band merited.

I thought at first that might have been because the crowd was out for Fucked Up's punk energy, but looking over the assembled group as the band took the stage, it struck me that the demographic at hand was way more "indie" than "punk". They were still into the band, just not in the manner of the smaller cadre of dedicated types who formed up and waited to leap into the circle pit. Actually, the pit had to wait a good spell to get going, as Fucked Up led off with the live debut of their epic new Chinese Zodiac single, "Year of The Tiger", whose structural DNA is not particularly hardcore, though it is a pretty fab bit of work — and enhanced by some cool real-time video toasting. Once the other shoe dropped though, it was business as usual, with all the accoutrements of a FU gig — including singer Damian Abraham heading to the back of the room and up onto the bar, singing all the way and returning to the stage with his very long mic cord wrapped around his face like some sort of macramé fetish mask. "Anyone can do this," Abraham commented, bringing home Wavelength's DIY ethos, although that most definitely underplays the band's singular live excellentness.

Listen to the epic live rendition of "Year of the Tiger" here.

Bonus content! I shared my audio with Graeme from NOW, who put together this overview of the night:

Monday, January 30, 2012

Recording: METZ

Artist: METZ

Song: Negative Space

Recorded at Lee's Palace, April 4, 2011.

METZ - Negative Space

My notes for this set can be found here.

Gig: Nomeansno

Nomeansno (METZ)

Lee's Palace. Monday, April 4, 2011.

Out for a dreaded Monday night gig amongst the Crusty Punx and other relics who looked like they weren't going gently into the weeknight. Those in attendance included Loud Arguing Dudes and Guy Who Repeatedly Shouts Outs People's Names From Across the Room ("Bill! Bill!") — screw this text messaging. Amongst a menagerie with a lot of folks who gave the impression that the used to go to a lot of shows, man, there'd be some grumpy faces in the office tomorrow morning. They were also people who didn't give a fig about t-shirt protocol — there was a large contingent out in their iconic Nomeansno WRONG t-shirts.

So, a decent showing for openers METZ, even if the crowd gave the impression were going to take a wait-and-see stance toward the local trio. With the big headliner drumkit set up near the front of stage left, Hayden Menzies' kit looked pretty puny by comparison, but it still generated plenty noise. And per the band's custom, the only source of light was from the illuminated kickdrum — which, on Lee's high stage, put it blindingly at eye level.

Even with that giant drumkit taking up real estate, this was the largest stage I've ever seen the band play on, and guitarist Alex Edkins had some extra room to wheel about as he powered the band's abrasive noise-lurches. With a hint of scabrous Jesus Lizard-y yelp-squelch, by "Dry Up", it was pretty clear the band was winning over some of the Crusty Punx. Maybe it's just having a slightly bigger space to fill than I've seen 'em in before, but they were a bit less overwhelmingly loud — not that they were delicate or anything, but there was some overhead for the dynamics and this might have been the best I'd ever heard 'em sound.

Playing their usual mix of tracks from their singles ("Dry Up", "Negative Space") plus newer ones presumably bound for their still-forthcoming album, they played seven efficient songs, moving quickly along, and sounding almost eager to get off the stage so they could hear the headliners.1

Listen to a song from this set here.

The last time I saw Nomeansno I went into it with no small amount of trepidation, fearful that time might have robbed some of the vitality from what had been one of my favourite bands back in the mid-90's. But that show's velocity careened right past nostalgia in a hurry, and this time I was more enthusiastic going in. Certainly for the bulk of the crowd — including a panorama of about three generations of leather jacket-wearing punks — none of this was an issue. My only worry was in wondering how far back from the stage I'd have to be to avoid getting jostled by bodies bouncing from the pit.

Making a stopover in T.O. before flying over for some European dates, the trio were in gregarious and feisty form. "We're from Vancouver, Canada's premier hockey town," said bassist/vocalist Rob Wright, gleefully taunting the crowd to some equally amiable boos.

With a fairly immense catalogue spanning three decades to draw from, there's a lot of stuff for the band to dip into and I was pleased with the selection of "Angel or Devil" (from 1995's fab The Worldhood of the World (As Such)) to start things off. Right from the start, all of the hallmarks were there — Rob's powerful, driving bass, as much of a "lead" instrument as Tom Holliston's guitar, both of whom were pushed along by John Wright's thunderous, stop-on-a-dime drums. Without pause came the funky post-punk guitar line animating "I Can't Stop Talking" (from the less-beloved Dance of the Headless Bourgeoisie) making the song sound incredibly more vital than I recall.

I was also glad that there was some new material in the mix. A pair of recently-released EP's provided several songs to the setlist, including the ace new "Jubilation", which, like so much of the band's material, makes a joyful song from the darkest of outlooks ("nothing left to hold on to in this wicked word / that's jubilation"). "Slave" and "One and the Same" were less endearing, but I'm still super-glad to see the band not just meekly accepting the easy ride down the nostalgia act route. And with a whiplash-inducing motion, they followed those newest songs with one of their oldest, reaching back to Mama, the band's 1982 debut full-length for "No Sex".

Call 'em codgers, but they're still pretty physical on stage — Rob managed to unplug his bass while Holliston sang "The Hawk Killed the Punk". And that led into a particularly driving and frothy version of "Teresa, Give Me That Knife". Watching them pump out song after song, it was admirable to see how damn vital the band remains, still nimbly navigating tempo changes and other rhythmic detours. And still treating the songs as if they were raw emotions ripped from the flesh, like when Holliston put down his guitar to grip the mic stand and lean into his vocals for "Metronome".

No shortage of highlights and no letup in a set lasting about an hour and twenty minutes — though the band might have been wearing down during set closing one-two punch from high-water mark Wrong, with a couple bum notes audible during "Oh No! Bruno!". Regrouping for a pair of encores that added another twenty-minutes to the proceedings, the night closed with the triumphalism of "Victory", and once again raging against the dying of the light carried the day.

Right after the show, I'd posted something old and something new here. And now I've done the same again here.


1 METZ will be headlining a stacked lineup on the first night of Wavelength's TWELVE! festival, Thursday, February 16, 2011 at Parts & Labour.

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

Recording: METZ

Artist: METZ

Song: Headache

Recorded at The Shop under Parts & Labour, December 11, 2010.

METZ - Headache

My notes for this set can be found here.

Gig: Brides

Brides (METZ / Tropics / Actual Water / Young Mother)

The Shop under Parts & Labour. Saturday, December 11, 2010.

A bit of an event down in Parkdale, with local No Wave noisters Brides playing their final show together. Although their recorded legacy is thin, they were well-beloved as a live unit, and went out in style by bringing no less than four like-minded bands to play with them. I was more of an admirer than a fanatic, but I felt like I should be on hand for this.

Knowing this was going to get jammed, I took care to get to The Shop in good time. My feelings for the venue continue to be a bit up and down — I rather like it when there's about fifty people in the long, low-ceilinged bomb shelter-like space; but when there's a couple hundred people on hand, it feels like a claustrophobic sweatbox and it gets hard to see and hear the bands. Weighing my options for the night, I decided to forgo my usual spot right up front (where at least you can see who's playing) and park myself on the back of the tiered gym benches along the long wall opposite the bar. From there, I was as elevated as could be over the crowd, so I could make out some of what was going on up front — though not a good spot for a bad photographer like me. It takes you out of the action a bit, but at least it generally sounded good and kept me out of harm's way.

I was also eager to be there early to catch Young Mother, who had impressed me when I'd seen 'em before. And though their first song was titled "No Straight Lines", I think that they were a bit less single-mindedly monochromatic in their presentation than when I'd seen them before — the songs were a little shorter and punchier this time 'round, and singer Jesse James Laderoute even cracked a joke, telling the crowd, "I promise I didn't match my guitar to my turtleneck intentionally." Still, underneath all that, the band was still manufacturing a calculated squalor with occasional bursts of rapidly babbled sing-speak lyrics breaking out into howls and no-wave sax bursts1. After four relatively concise songs — a couple in the two-minute range — the band closed with the relatively expansive "The Well-Tempered Male". Impressive once more, it was nice to bookend a show demarking one band's denouement with another really on the cusp.

Listen to a song from this set here.

Meanwhile, the night's between-sets entertainment was handled by Doldrums, with Airick Woodhead doing something in the slippery zone between conventional DJing and his standard one-man-band chop/copy/loop routine. Perhaps best to say that he "Doldrumized" the music he was playing in the same manner he creates his own, tweaking sounds in real time, dropping in treated samples of the music from just-completed sets all while bopping away as if he were there primarily to entertain himself. Later on in the night, Woodhead would test the goodwill of the crowd by playing some of the most diametrically opposed tunes imaginable to the evening's bands, including dropping Cher's "Believe" — and then deconstructing it in real-time, talking over the music to ponder on the lyrics and ask the crowd if, in fact, they really do believe in life after love.

I'd been curious for a while about Actual Water, who'd originally had a rep for noisy squalor. But that's been torqued with the release of The Paisley Orchard, their third album, which promised something else entirely. Apparently a core duo of Tony Price (guit/vox) and G.P. (drums), they were rounded out with bass and second guitarist. Laying down a loud rock racket crossed with twelve-string jangle could go wrong, and when the first song kinda muddled along, I wondered if this was going to be any good. But suddenly it all clicked together gloriously and all at once the band's sound was in focus — flower punk with no lack of heaviosity.

As others would throughout the evening, Price mused on their connection to the night's headliner: "The first show we ever played was with Brides," he noted. And, as if eager to get to their set, the band kept things concise, cramming in seven songs in just over twenty minutes. Intriguing stuff, and a band worth checking out.2

Listen to a track from this set here.

From there, the rest of the bands were more familiar to me, including Tropics. "I want to welcome you to the Battle of the Bands, 2010," joked singer/guitarist Slim Twig after leading off with one that might be called "Holy Water", which worked in the basic Tropics template of hammering drums from Simone TB countering Slim's slashing guitar and slurred screeches. But their sound is evolving a little, I think. The guitar is a bit less thin/harsh than is used to be, mediating the abrasiveness of the sound. That's relative, of course — the music is still way more Alan Vega than Buddy Holly, and still feels like a cauterizing wallop in the band's usual quick bursts.

Joking about the quick twenty minute sets the bands were playing, Slim Twig noted, "most bands have to shorten their sets — we're lengthening ours." In fact, they still came in as the shortest burst of the night, but there was some definite gems in there, including "Pale Trash", now out on a 7".

With METZ taking the stage, the room seemed as full as before, but now there were twice as many people trying to cram themselves right up against the band, making the back half of the room look quite empty by comparison. As loud as it was, people obviously wanted to get face-to-face with the band's riff-y ferocity. As usual, the stage area was dark, the illuminated bass drum the only source of light. Once the band's spazz-grunge attack was underway, I couldn't see much of anything going on past the pulsating crowd, but there must have been some bodies bouncing off the gear, as the microphones kept getting unplugged every once in a while.

Still in the process of recording their debut long-player, for this set unreleased material would outweigh the stuff from their singles — I recognized "Dry Up" and "Negative Space", and there were a couple familiar from past shows. There were also a couple brand new songs, including one with a snappier-than-usual tempo: "this is the only song that we can honestly say is a dance song," commented bassist Chris Slorach. I've now seen the band enough to be past that initial shocked-and-awed stage, but I still found it to be a bracing experience.3

Listen to a track from this set here.

The hour growing late, some of the crowd slipped away after that. It would be about ten to two when the last set began. Overall, from the outset Brides went about their business without sentimentality — this was more like a one last mad rush into battle than a victory lap. And despite the finality of the occasion and the reverence paid to them by all of the earlier bands, they didn't play for very much longer than anyone else, preferring to lay out their final testament in a concentrated blast that was done in under half an hour. That didn't mean they were rushing it — the set began with a few minutes of instrumental build. This might be a sign that the band had grown some since I'd last seen 'em — or perhaps my mind tended to remember the blasts of skronk more. Still, all the main elements I remembered were here, with saxophone blats butting up against the thrum of the music, all a backdrop for Elliott Jones' panicked-sounding vocals.

Even if the band seemed relatively reserved, there was certainly more palpable emotion coming from the crowd, and even when the music was syrupy slow, the audience was still seething and slipping around on the beer that had been sprayed around at the set's beginning. I wasn't close enough to really be able to catch what was going on, but there was some antipathy towards the audience from Jones — whether that was part of the band's antagonistic pose or the crowd was getting a bit too aggressive I cannot say. But when Jones commented, "that's it man, I'm not doing any more... everybody's bleeding too much playin' up here," he wasn't speaking metaphorically. Afterward, I spotted guitarist Michael Pytlik washing a bleeding gash in his hand clean. How that came to pass, I couldn't see from my vantage, but it probably explained the "fuck all y'all" that the band closed with. Maybe not the best way to go out, but rather apt, metaphorically speaking, given the band's abrasive vibe. Thus passeth Brides, though some members can already be seen around town in new bands, perpetuating the rock'n'roll circle of life.4

Listen to a track from this set here.


1 I noted that the band had a new sax player in tow, but I have no information on who he was. Apparently savouring the mystery, there's still not a lot of information online about the band and who's in it, but they do have a generous assortment of music to check out on their soundcloud, which is the most important thing.

2 Tropics and Actual Water (plus out-of-town guests White Suede) will be playing June 17, 2011 at the Feast In The East II show at the Dickens Street Theatre.

3 During NXNE, METZ will be playing a free show at Yonge-Dundas Square (June 16, 2011) along such distinguished company as Fucked Up, Descendents and OFF!

4 Though I haven't caught 'em yet, Elliott Jones' new project Ell V Gore — which also features Tropics' Simone TB on drums — has been hotly tipped.

Monday, February 28, 2011

Recording: METZ

Artist: METZ

Song: Dry Up

Recorded at The Garrison, October 24, 2010.

METZ - Dry Up

My notes for this set can be found here.

Gig: Mission of Burma

Mission of Burma (METZ / Hybrid Moments)

The Garrison. Sunday, October 24, 2010.

This Sunday night special was one of the "pop" presentations of The Music Gallery's fifth annual X AVANT Festival. It was also the night before the civic election, with most in attendance stuck somewhere between numb anticipation/dread and blank disbelief as to where the city would be finding itself a day later. Perhaps that might be considered a worthy state of mind to blast everything clean with some tuneful white noise guitar.

Setting the table for the night would be Hybrid Moments, the avant/improvisory guitar duo of Matt Vocabulary and Jonny Dovercourt. Given the nature of the beast, I was pretty sure I would be getting something different than when I saw 'em a few months back, and maybe it was just because they started off with a more subtle building sort of attack, but I got the sense here of the pair having a bit more structure in their "structured improvisations". This time, there was no drifting into Wipers covers or the like — though that may not be for lack of trying: "That was originally intended to be a cover of 'More Than a Feeling'", Dovercourt joked after one piece. "It didn't really work out." The second improvisation included some guitar that was distorted almost to the point of blippy-ness, with Matt V. shoving drumsticks into his guitar strings.

There was some crunchiness in the guitar tone, but there was space around what they were playing — they weren't filling the background with waves of distortion or anything. What they were doing here sounded a bit less fusty — or perhaps we should say more at ease — than that last time 'round, as well as less shred-y. The last one, along with a title ("The Pugilist") also had the most internal drive, but these were still generally abstract pieces.

There's room here for all sort of extra-musical musing. Like, for example, if this were two guys with saxophones, it would seem more immediately okay to appreciate the idea of structured improvisations with less baggage of "jamming" than guitars have. There are a few layers like that that you have to grapple with — or just straight-up ignore — before you even get to the music.

The first piece ten minutes, and the next couple were shorter ones, putting the band on stage for just over twenty minutes, probably about the right amount of clamour to lay on the crowd. Enough to keep me interested and to think that when I see 'em again, they won't be rehashing what they did here.1

Listen to an excerpt from this set here.

"It's going to be a really loud show, starting with the next band," Dovercourt noted, touting the earplugs for sale at the merch table.2 This would be the right mental place to be in for noise-grunge purveyors METZ, who took the guitar explorations of the night so far, and dipped them in acid 'til they were worn down to corroded sharp points. Once the trio were ready to go, all the rights on stage were extinguished, save for one on the bass drum, creating the murky atmosphere that the band prefers to go along with their hard-driving grind. Familiar tracks from their singles like "Negative Space" and "Dry Up" filled all the crannies of the room.

Interestingly, the band's live sound is a bit more straight-ahead than the recordings, where the band is willing to fuck around with things a bit, cross-breeding the noise with some studio trickery. That makes the songs more direct live — one new one barely stretched to two minutes, though one gets a sense of how the band could prolong it in the studio. METZ gigs are quick by nature, here just seven songs in under twenty-five minutes — and this might be on the longer side by the band's standards. Bracing stuff, and again I found it a pretty satisfying mix, with enough of a "song" sensibility to keep the noisier parts from getting too untethered. Word is that the band is finally working on a full-length release, so we'll see in the future if that's going to give their live sets something more like the arc of an album side than a batch of hit and run singles.3

Listen to a song from this set here.

Those opening sets were a good chance for the bands to reach a slightly different audience than usual, as Mission of Burma brought out a slightly older crowd, with a lot of folks who looked like grown-up music enthusiasts who don't get out to as many gigs as they used to. But I could well imagine people making an exception for the Boston three-piece. One of the most seminal 80's American bands, Mission of Burma helped create the topography around those nebulous terrains sprawling away from "postpunk", but didn't really last long enough in their original incarnation to enjoy the fruits of their labours, disbanding in 1983 after releasing an EP and an album that would come to be seen as forward-looking classics. Reuniting in the early part of the aughts, the band has had a second act that has outlasted the first in terms of duration and output, with the band now having released three albums — and receiving some well-deserved appreciation — in their second go-round.

As the band set up, there were some indications that this wasn't just your usual bunch of young tyros from down the block. Most obvious was the drum baffle in front of the kit, something you only usually see on a stage for the fussier sort of jazz combos. The trio took the stage, leading off with Roger Miller's "Donna Sumeria" (from 2006's The Obliterati), featuring a guitar groove that was pure fingertapping classic rock before exploding into the wiry shrapnel shapes the group is known for. From there, the songs featured alternating frontmen, veering into Conley's anthemic-yet-goofy romp "1, 2, 3, Partyy!" (from the most recent album, '09's The Sound The Speed The Light). After Peter Prescott's droll "Good Cheer", the band reached back to 1981 and their first incarnation for the blistering "This Is Not a Photograph", followed by "Mica" (from '82's Vs.) which contained a prominent intervention from offstage member Bob Weston behind the soundboard, with Conley's vocals slowly wiping themselves away in a hazy cloud.4

Playing a show outside the promo cycle of their last album, the band was free to range around their catalogue as they saw fit. Interestingly, they seemed to actually favour 2006's The Obliterati, which got a generous representation, including "Careening With Conviction", "2wtice", and "Let Yourself Go", of which Miller commented, "it's only a suggestion, not a command."

The band pumped out songs with ruthless efficiency, rarely stopping to catch their breath. The set even looked ahead to the future, with one bracing new song called "This is Hi-Fi", plus another that might be called "Love Comes Undone" ("Love comes undone / I wanna undo you"), which I can't yet find any reference to online. There was the mesomorphic rock of "Nancy Reagan's Head" as well as some relative obscurities, like "Nu Disco", from the Peking Spring collection.5 The set-ending pairing of "Learn How" (sounding like the forehead from which a thousand postpunk bands sprung) followed by the bracing punk (not "post") of "That's How I Escaped My Certain Fate" finished things in awesome fashion.

And then a generous encore, and it was pleasing to note that something newer like "1001 Pleasant Dreams" was as bracing as "Academy Fight Song". After an instrumental (featuring Conley on guitar) the house music came up and I thought the band was done, but the crowd kept cheering and they came out again to tear out "The Ballad of Johnny Burma" and "Peking Spring". Nearly ninety minutes of goodness when all was said and done, and looking back, this would have to be counted as one of the year's best concerts.

A couple selections from this set on offer: you can check out something from the past or something from the future.


1 And, in fact, I'll be seeing Hybrid Moments again at Wavelength 516, coming up on Sunday, March 13, 2011, where they'll be joined by The Deeep and Eons, the debut of the new "solo" project from Bruce Peninsula's Matt Cully.

2 This is totally laudable, but it really makes one wonder why this isn't the case at every show.

3 Perhaps in anticipation of having an album to offer, the band has made their three singles available on their bandcamp page on a "name your price" basis, which means $0 or more. Combined together, the six tracks make for a potent little EP.

4 Weston's manipulations were less gear-intensive than I might have imagined, involving just a small digital looping box patched into the soundboard.

5 This one does, however, make for a key part in the MoB story, as after writing it, Miller thought it should include a tape loop, which led to the band's association with original sound manipulator Martin Swope. Swope's role with the band, as an interventionist soundman who didn't appear on stage, was something new and Bob Weston has kept that element of the band alive with his presence in the reunited lineup.

Friday, December 31, 2010

Recording: METZ

Artist: METZ

Song: Soft Whiteout

Recorded at The Shop under Parts & Labour, August 13, 2010.

METZ - Soft Whiteout

My notes for this set can be found here.

Gig: METZ

METZ (Anagram / Induced Labour)

The Shop under Parts & Labour. Friday, August 13, 2010.

Having arrived after heading over from my previous gig, I only caught about the last ten minutes of Induced Labour who were perhaps as discomforting as their name suggests. Being stuck back in the crowd at The Shop is not a good way to be able to garner information like how many people there were in the band or what precisely they were doing to cause all that screaming.

That would turn out to be nothing more untoward than one manner of the group's vocalizations — there'd also be some croaking and shrieking on tap, all accompanied by rapid fire drumbursts and a constant guitar roar. If you listened to about five randomly-selected vintage AmRep tracks at once — or the soundtrack to a rock'n'roll demon possession in real time — you might get a similar effect.

Straight-up noise rock is generally outside my purview, so that I didn't get too much out of this should be taken with that in mind. Even when there was a veneer of tunefulness — like in the last song where they were ripping off "Ode to Joy" — this wasn't easy-to-digest stuff.

As the floor cleared out between sets, I was able to move up and grab some real estate closer to the front. And I did want to be be close to see Anagram, though experience told me I'd have to pick my spot carefully to not put myself in the path of what would surely be plenty of bouncing bodies. My absolute interest in seeing this set certainly struck me — when I saw Anagram for the first time at the start of the year, I enjoyed it, but I hadn't been electrified. And yet it was one of those shows whose memory grew on me, enough that I did seek them out a couple more times, seeing them at shows that managed to make me into a most ardent enthusiast. Perhaps it was partially that this show in P&L's somewhat claustrophobic basement surroundings was the most "standard" environment I'd seen them in for awhile might help to explain my affection.

Or perhaps it's that Anagram's music is so affecting. Even if I'm not one for the physicality that this engenders in some, there's something here that gets under my skin. And even if it's not something pleasant, given the band's emotional tone and subjectmatter, it feels damn good. To put it another way, the response in those forcing their way up to the front was not so much mosh-y as push-y and agitated.1 Looking around, I noted I wasn't the only one captivated enough to want to get close despite the peril — I'm amazed at the extent to which people will risk expensive-looking cameras by getting right in the action during sets like this.

Leading off with "Done Yet?", the turbulent thrum built up and there were soon bodies moving around — and suddenly waves of heat and stale beersmell started wafting through the room. That song, like most of the set would be from their then-forthcoming (though now-released2) Majewski album. At this point, seeing them live was the only way to commune with these songs and to get a feel for how they are constructed. It's interesting to note how most songs don't start with a count-in but rather a bass riff from Jeff Peers, whose low-end underpins things as Willy Mason's guitar slashes in from various crosscutting angles. Meanwhile singer Matt Mason attacks the songs on another front, prowling out into the crowd as far as his microphone cord would allow.

The songs are lean and sinewy but they can stretch out as necessary, the band sometimes riding out an unchanging chord to tension-inducing lengths. Besides the originals there was an especially good version of "Fish", a song by Whitby's Cleavers that Anagram have made their own. Mason's pauses stretch out longer and longer ("she scratches by back... scratches my toes...... Yeahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.") to almost awkward lengths before the band comes back in. An intense and rather excellent half-hour.

Listen to a track from this set here.

I'd been hearing good things about headliners METZ for a while, but before this night our paths had not crossed. Taking the stage about quarter past one, the trio were celebrating the release of their third 7" single. They've been stingy on the official releases while building up their repertoire and their rep as a superior — and loud — live act.

As the set began, I felt a pleasing burst of flannelled familiarity — this is grunge, in the sense that we meant it back in my day.3 The band makes no effort to dispute this connection, here even introducing "Negative Space" (one of the sides from the new 7") as "Drown". "Alex wrote it with Smashing Pumpkins back in the day. It's on the Singles soundtrack," was the joke from bassist Chris Slorach. Labels aside, the music was, as advertised, loud and intense. I'd been holding the spot I'd grabbed to listen to Anagram, but things right up front were getting more animated. For my own peace of mind I moved around to the side, where it was generally more peaceable but the sound a bit more muddled up. The band did a pretty good job of plowing through what could have been a slop-inducing mess, beer flying through the air and friends up front more than willing to lean in to the microphones to add their vocal contributions.

Playing from all of their singles plus throwing in a couple newer ones, I was generally enthused by the band's interesting positioning in the catchy/not-catchy continuum. Not a lot of singalong choruses or anything, but some guitar hooks that you can catch on to. But also plenty shouty sharp corners in the Jesus Lizard-y mold, and the band was willing to let the beat drop and the guitar slip into shards of less-structured noise every once in a while. Good stuff.

Listen to a track from this set here.

As I'd felt on other occasions, I had somewhat mixed feelings about the venue — the vibe is apropos to the music but there really isn't enough space to step away if you happen to be a one that doesn't want other people's sweat (or gawdknows what else4) on you. And if you want to actually hear and see the band, you have to insinuate yourself right up in the thick of it. At the same time, a few overenthusiastic knobs aside — and they're everywhere, sadly — it's generally a comfortable enough crowd to be in, and the people who run the joint are class acts. Which is to say the space isn't without flaws, but I guess they're not so immense to keep me from heading back there on a semi-regular basis.


1 This, of course, doesn't give people licence to act outside the bounds of polite behaviour. For the life of me I cannot understand how these tall louts who suddenly have to be at the very front once the music starts think it's okay for them to push aside and stand in front of people shorter than them.

2 By virtue of trying to capture their live raw abrasiveness, Majewski is the band's least compromising recording to date. Although not suitable for every mood, it's a rip-snorting bit of work and one of my favourite albums of the year. No CD release, but you can grab it on vinyl if you're into that sort of thing, or as an intangible artifact here. Bonus points for selling the album in FLAC sans extra mark-up.

3 When I say "grunge" in casual conversation, I don't mean anything like a lot of dross that came to get lumped in with the term — I mostly mean, "it sounds a bit like TAD."

4 On my way out, as I stopped to give my regards to Anagram guitarist Willy Mason, there was a dude doubled over one of the room's plastic garbage cans. "Is that guy puking? Is that what's happening here?" he asked, looking mildly less than thrilled.