Metz At Whelan’s – Photos & Review
A quick glance around the national music websites in the days leading up to this gig was an indication of poor ticket sales. A real shame, because Canadian trio Metz are genuine heirs to the noise trinity throne once occupied by the likes of Husker Du and Nirvana.
Their second album Metz II has been rightly lauded as one of the year’s best. Why Whelan’s on a Friday night fails to sell out for a band as good as this is quite staggering. Not that those in attendance care, as the Toronto natives amble onto the stage to loud applause, check cables and volumes and blast the bejaysus out of the room with ‘Headache’. Heads are banging off the stage, the moshpit is alive, wait .. is that guy gonna stagedive? Jesus we’re only one song in. Deadly. The next couple of songs fly past as Metz barely inhale; ‘Get Off’, a primal scream about making love, ‘Spit You Out’, recalling Mudhoney at their dirtiest.
The second album has afforded Metz the double luxuries of cherrypicking their setlist and adding more dynamic to their shows.
Having seen them tour off the back of their debut release Metz I, those shows were in keeping with the full tilt nature of that record.
Tonight’s gig is still a sonic assault, but the studio chops learned during the making of the second album are brought to bear onstage. And that assault claims a victim in the house PA, knocked out cold by Alex Edkins’ Jazzmaster, not so much a guitar as a jackhammer. After a short delay, the recharged boys in the pit lose their shit for ‘Acetate’, its buzz saw bass and industrial drums making Metz sound like John Lydon fronting Big Black.
Closing with ‘Wet Blanket’, they leave Whelan’s sweaty, exhilarated and wanting more. Sex masquerading as rock ‘n’ roll.
Photos by Pedro Giaquinto
Review by Keith McGouran