“I think it was just important to us to stay true to why we do this at all,” says Edkins. “We tried to make something that the three of us would like, and not think about what’s going to sell more copies. That’s really all it was; it was us wanting to almost put blinders on, and not think about the fact that all of a sudden we had quite a bigger audience because of the reaction to the first record.”
As well as blocking out any external pressures that could’ve crept into the rehearsal room, Metz bunkered down for a six-month songwriting exile, forcing them to take a break from their notoriously hectic touring schedule. The result is a record that’s both breathtakingly concussive and more cohesive than the last.
“[We were] going in and working on songs that were better structured than we’d ever done before,” says Edkins. “That was a new process. Before it was always jamming and jamming, whittling down the songs and arranging them that way. This was different. I think it had its definite pros. There’s a little more melody in there.”
Like a punch to the gut, Metz offer an onslaught of buzz saw guitars and sandpaper vocals, broken up by occasional bursts of ambient noise or an off-kilter harmony. II comprises a hard-edged interplay between tension and release, which is as therapeutic for punters to thrash around to as it is for the band to make it. “I think it’s like having a shrink or something, but for free. It’s good for our heads,” Edkins laughs.
This triggers memories of the now infamous incident where Metz’s music was, in fact, detrimental to their heads. Bassist Chris Slorach split his skull open after head-banging straight into his instrument. Not one to cause a fuss, he simply covered the wound with duct tape and finished the set – undeterred by the cocktail of blood and sweat dripping down his face.
“It’s a huge release for all three of us,” says Edkins. “As far as the band goes, I think it’s a really good outlet for all of our personalities. A lot of the content is often coming from frustration. I don’t think of it as anger, but some of the darker things we’re able to get out of our system.”
With a four year gap between their formation and their debut LP, Metz’s first album was painstakingly crafted, designed to ooze brutality with rapid-fire precision. After all, it takes immense effort to disguise a tightly oiled machine as pure chaos. With II however, the band decided to embrace their ragged edges.
“I’m really turned on by records that have all of the mistakes left in,” says Edkins. “Things where they’re not trying to make a perfect take, or a perfect song; leaving it all there to see. We did that more on this second album than we did on the first one. I think on the first one, we were attempting to get something right, you know? It’s not that we weren’t holding high standards, but I think our definition of good has slightly changed, where the feel is more important than the actual execution. I think it’s one of those things where there is no right way now. Whatever is feeling good, that’s the right way.”
BY JAMES DI FABRIZIO
