Metric's Fantasies...and every Canadian indie's as well

Overall: 7.6/10
Sound: 7
Quality: 7
Lyrics: 9
Impression: 7
Production: 8
Tilt: 7.6

Two artists are looking for direction. One has poetic license running through her veins. The other is a Brit studying at the Juliard School of Music. How they met in Toronto and started collaborating, I'll never know. But that's not even the most incredible thing about Metric. Classically-trained musicians delving into mid-80's synth pop in the 2000's music era seemed bizarre, unorthodox and completely taboo. Oh yeah, and it was amazing too.

The band's latest effort, Fantasies, is an example from the already vast repertoire of Metric diversity. From the opening drum beats on Help I'm Alive, you can tell what you're in for: a rich soundscape, brim with synthesizers, potent drums and driving guitars. Emily Haines provides the cherry on the indie rock sundae with a voice to die for, brim with as much vivacious expression as intriguing contempt. Yet as you peruse through Sick Muse and Satellite Mind, you notice something: Metric is evolving. Where once there was almost a pretentious attitude that made listening to the band an abrasive ordeal, Metric has seemingly returned to a natural state in which they can thrive. They are people once again: performers and no longer drum machines.

Headlining this work is Emily Haines' lyricism. While deeply routed in romance and sexuality, like much of Metric's previous work, Haines broadens her horizons, delving into anxiety and depression, the nature and definition of success, obsession and idol worship in 21st century society. One thing I deeply respect about the way Haines performs is the reduced nature of her voice. Listening to a catchy powerhouse track like Gimme Sympathy, Haines' voice almost feels like a backing track compared to the piano/guitar combination; as much as she's speaking for the music, the music is speaking first. However, she shines most in songs like Collect Call: this woman feels fragile singing, "I know it's a lie, I want it to be true/The rest of the ride is riding on you," and those emotions easily reflect on the listener.

Musically, the album spawns from the same formula seen on Old World Underground and Live It Out. A guitar or piano backdrop commences a synth-filled orchestration of sonic intensity on tracks like Gimme Sympathy, Gold Gun Girls and Stadium Love. While this traditional Metric signature gives the band its unique and personable sound, it becomes a little dry and overdone by the time you reach track 7 (that was the biggest vice of 2005's Live It Out). What differentiates Fantasies is the maturity brought to the table: songs like Help I'm Alive, Twilight Galaxy and Collect Call make the journey seem less arduous with a mellow spin to accompany. The variation gives the listener gaps to anticipate the next high rise, which is unique to the album and separates it from the rest of the Metric catalogue.

While the listener flows down this album like a new wave river, they reach the end and are confused to get off. While Stadium Love comes off conclusive, the entire album concludes in around a half hour easily: much less than enough time to get into the groove. As soon as that final track finishes, the listener immediately feels like they missed something; that doesn't go away on the second listen either. Metric, to me, has always been like chocolate: immediately satisfying but that feeling is quickly replaced with self-doubt. It took me two or three listens to really see the high aspects of this album as it all went by so quickly and with such instant gratification (I was whistling Gimme Sympathy right at the end...that's about it). Not to say the music is empty, it's far from it. Instantly though, you won't get much from it and that's a problem.

In its entirety, Metric treads new terrain with Fantasies. Haines' lyricism is no longer completely lost in translation and the depth in the musical expansion has grown exponentially. The band is real now and they've accepted that role with open arms. More profound soundscapes would be recommended for the band to reach its vast potential, but until then, it's fans will be more than happy with letting loose and grooving out to songs like Poster of a Girl and Succexy. It's been said that the most difficult music to make is prolific pop: music that, when given 3 minutes, sends both a catchy beat and an excellent message. Thus far, Metric has shown Canada and the rest of the world exactly that.