Recalling the early days of the Seattle label when grunge was thunderous and menacing, this Canadian group's debut is extra heavy. Recorded over the course of a week by Graham Walsh (Holy Fuck) and Alexandre Bonenfant in an old barn, METZ's self-titled album revisits the gut-thumping sludge of early Melvins and the abrasive scrawl of Jesus Lizard. Alex Edkins, Hayden Menzies, and Chris Slorach bash on their respective instruments, taking atonal to the extreme point of sounding like a guitar string being dragged down a chalkboard. Never plodding, only one song breaks the four minute mark, and most are around the conventional punk length of two or three minutes. Because of the heavy distortion, it would be easy to confuse METZ for a metal band, in the way that you could with Pissed Jeans or Slug Guts, but really, the Toronto trio is just a ball of heavy genres, lumping together noise rock, post-punk, hardcore, no wave, or any style that might punish a pair of eardrums.
Recalling the early days of the Seattle label when grunge was thunderous and menacing, this Canadian group's debut is extra heavy. Recorded over the course of a week by Graham Walsh (Holy Fuck) and Alexandre Bonenfant in an old barn, METZ's self-titled album revisits the gut-thumping sludge of early Melvins and the abrasive scrawl of Jesus Lizard. Alex Edkins, Hayden Menzies, and Chris Slorach bash on their respective instruments, taking atonal to the extreme point of sounding like a guitar string being dragged down a chalkboard. Never plodding, only one song breaks the four minute mark, and most are around the conventional punk length of two or three minutes. Because of the heavy distortion, it would be easy to confuse METZ for a metal band, in the way that you could with Pissed Jeans or Slug Guts, but really, the Toronto trio is just a ball of heavy genres, lumping together noise rock, post-punk, hardcore, no wave, or any style that might punish a pair of eardrums.