Diabolical Poetry with hope for redemption, METZ‘s post punk industrial assault is a soundtrack perfect for throwing wrenches in the gears of our hysterical social and political climate.
First up was Brian Warren’s (Weather Box) new project, Miss New Buddha, the likes of which has recruited some very talented youngsters to reinvigorate Warren’s recognizable songwriting and sound. Taking on a more collaborative approach, the music has evolved by adopting technically savvy guitar math riffs similar to Don Caballero while maintaining a tight driving rhythm section and Warren singing in short aggressive phrases more akin to post punk. The band does an exceptional job of realizing these genres as a whole and in my opinion is a step forward in Mr. Warren’s catalogue.
Second up were new Sub Pop signees Moaning, an eclectic shoegaze/post punk band that rose from the DIY scenes of The Smell and Pehrspace. Their music is an amalgamation of several sounds, but remains stark and dreary in support of guitarist/singer Sean Solomon’s agonizing and deadpan voice. There’s a soulful innocence and heart-on-their sleeves factor in what this band has put together both lyrically and melodically. They almost infallibly conjure raspy metallic solos and have moments of noise, but maintain a ghostly moaning throughout their music that is consistent with the bands name.
Watching METZ play at The Casbah was one of the most invigorating musical performances of 2017. Their sheer bedlam, sharp angular arrangements, and caustic energy cut through the superficial enigmas that loomed with the end of the year’s existential crisis. What METZ contributed to my resolution was a little bit of clarity in what truly matters during these grim times. Strange, I know, since they cater to seizures and unrest with their manic strobe lightshow and volume level capable of rupturing eardrums.
Make music that reflects the now and people will go ape shit and also understand the intention of your art.
This was a little epiphany I noted in my notebook as a small scuffle broke out and some guy exited the mosh pit with blood gushing from a cut in his eyebrow.
Perhaps, poetically and succinctly, Alex Adkins summed up the goal of humanity while attempting to calm the crowd, “there’s too many fucked things in the world for us not to get along in this room, hold it together or get the fuck out.”
Review by: Rory Morison
Photos by: Nicholas Regalado