Metz - II (LP)

METZ’s second LP arrived in May 2015 on Sub Pop, and it still hits like someone kicked open the fire exit at your favourite venue and let the weather in. The Toronto trio of Alex Edkins, Chris Slorach, and Hayden Menzies made their name on ferocity, but II sharpens the attack. It’s lean, mean, and strangely elegant about the chaos, the kind of noise rock that makes you check if your speakers are clipping even when you know they aren’t. If you’re chasing METZ vinyl, this one earns its place on the shelf the moment the needle drops.

“Acetate” sets the tone with a blown‑out snarl. Edkins’ guitar sounds like steel cable under tension, Slorach’s bass is a thick, buzzing floor, and Menzies plays drums like he’s trying to free a jammed door with his sticks. The pace is breathless, but there’s shape to it. METZ stack parts like a good post‑hardcore band, letting a riff grind longer than comfort allows before wrenching the song into a new gear. “Spit You Out” drags its feet in the best way, slower and heavier, a reminder that the band’s sense of menace doesn’t rely on speed. When the chorus chews through, it’s pure catharsis.

A lot of guitar groups call themselves loud. METZ make loud feel sculpted. The production keeps edges serrated, yet every strike lands with intention. You hear the room around Menzies’ kit. You feel the air move when Slorach digs in. Edkins’ voice clips and yelps, but it’s not buried. That balance is the record’s secret weapon. It nods to the lineage people always mention with this band — think the taut churn of The Jesus Lizard or the wire‑taut bark of early Sub Pop — but it never lapses into cosplay. II is modern in its punch, almost brutalist in how it places each element.

There’s real variety across the short run time. “The Swimmer” splashes about with a jittery, almost surf‑gone‑sour riff before locking into a pummel that feels like being pinned to the front rail. Elsewhere the band dig into a nervy mid‑tempo that lets the feedback bloom and the vocals scratch at the melody. No song overstays. METZ understand that intensity expands to fill whatever space you give it, so they trim the fat and keep the pressure high. It flies by in about half an hour and begs a flip back to side A, which is exactly what you want from II vinyl on the turntable.

Critics heard it too at the time. The record drew strong notices from the likes of Pitchfork and The Guardian for refining the debut’s blueprint without sanding off the splinters. Fans took to these tracks as setlist anchors. Anyone who’s felt “Acetate” or “Spit You Out” erupt in a small room knows how the album’s grit translates live. There’s a physicality here that studio trickery can’t fake. It’s the sound of three players pushing air and finding the pocket where noise becomes momentum.

Part of the charm is how Canadian it feels in spirit. Blunt, practical, zero fuss. METZ aren’t here to sermonise or reinvent the wheel. They tune the wheel, tighten the bolts, and send it down a steeper hill. Still, there are little pleasures if you listen closely. Guitar lines double back on themselves. Drum fills sneak in sideways. The bass tone carries a weird, gummy sweetness under all the filth. It’s a proper headphones record if you can handle high volume up close.

If you’re crate digging in a Melbourne record store and spot II, grab it. The Sub Pop pressing does justice to the low‑end thump and the cut glass highs, and these songs breathe wider on wax. For those who like to buy METZ records online, it’s usually easy to find alongside other METZ albums on vinyl. It sits nicely next to their 2012 debut and Strange Peace, mapping a neat arc of a band getting tighter and heavier without losing the grin behind the grimace. Among vinyl records Australia collectors, it’s one of those go‑to recommendations when someone asks for something loud that still feels alive.

Eight years on from its release, II hasn’t dulled. It’s a concise argument for volume as design choice, not just attitude. Play it front to back, then play it again a little louder. If your coffee doesn’t kick in, this will.