Metric - 'Fantasies' (Metric Music International) Released 27/04/09

Through nothing more than geographical association, the musical output of a certain country can be subconsciously off-putting. Admittedly it’s a narrow minded point of view to have, but a case in point is Canada; its musical heritage celebrated as much as it is derided. However, with the vocal delights of Emily Haines leading the way Metric is one Canadian band that warrants a celebration of sorts.

Looking to build on the success of their previous three studio albums ‘Fantasies’ is a ten track scene set of multi-directional empathy that despite a clutch of abstract lyrics is too clean in construction and clinical in execution to avoid homogeneous grouping. In some ways this is a shame, their riff-ridden electro-pop-rock too strong and confident to be buried in an unmarked grave of hypothetical has-beens. For their burgeoning fan base however, this in itself isn’t a problem, the crossover appeal they exude too expansive to pigeonhole with a shoulder-shrug of indifference.

Combining a concentrated mix of pliable structure with rebellious conformity, their explosive immediacy provides instant access and is established through album opener ‘Help I’m Alive’. It’s big, loud, generous, and assertive and like ‘Sick Muse’ and album closer ‘Stadium Love’ extremely malleable. Veering slightly left of mainstream Metric can’t be directly accused of painting by numbers, even if they do provide thematic guidance; the substitution of guitar for floating keys and backing vocals in ‘Twilight Galaxy’ and the forceful head-charge of its polar opposite ‘Gold Guns Girls’ leaving no room for doubt as to their modus operandi.

‘Fantasies’ might be a distinct and finely polished body of work with a wealth of up-tempo possibilities but there’s also an omnipresent dark and brooding undercurrent; the paranoid, downtrodden accusations surmised in ‘Satellite Mind’, ‘Blindness’ and ‘Front Row’ enough to crack the staid gloss of a fake smile without encouraging or attracting self-pity.

Yet despite the admirable strength of its fifty minute duration and lack of fillers, after a few listens at least there’s little in the way of standalone, standout tracks either. With too much emphasis on compassionate understanding an element of honesty is somehow lost and an album that tries too hard to be your best friend at times feels bland and unimportant, unless of course you’re a young adolescent with a tendency for unnecessary deliberation.