Balancing what’s real and what’s artificial, Metric appear as if they’re having a difficult time shaping Synthetica into the superior indie rock album everybody wants, and if you believe that, you’re listening too hard. The Toronto four-piece aren’t pop perfectionists – their music contains too much depth, purity and sharpness to burst with filler – but they’re instead genuine composers who blend ambiguity with bliss. Ever since Static Anonymity and Knives Don’t Have Your Back, they’ve let their chemistry ripple out substance. Fast forward fourteen years and Emily Haines, Jimmy Shaw, Josh Winstead and Joules Scott-Key can still grind guitars into staggering noise (“Artificial Nocturne”, “Synthetica”), shove feverish percussion to the forefront and melt keys into euphoric numbers that don’t know when to quit being catchy (“The Void”). And that’s the thing about Synthetica; it is an album lacking the parasitic nature of its predecessor Fantasies, where Metric elaborated on their study of the guitar, but the hooks make up for every slip and pitfall the record presents. It’s not poetry, but Haines knows how to use tightly wound grooves to engrave a lyric and a melody into the abyss of your mind and leave it there until it decides to thrive. Rest assured, Synthetica will.
Download: “The Void”, “Artificial Nocturne”, “Clone”
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