Certain moments feel made for taking stock. A 25th-anniversary. A tenth album. Metric hit both of those marks recently, having passed the quarter-century mark as a band not long before recording their latest album, Romanticize the Dive. Maybe the numbers played a part in looking back. Either way, the Emily Haines-fronted quartet moved in the direction, getting their sound back to their roots as they looked back on a long and fruitful, if occasionally surprising, era guided largely by professional commitment.
Metric never sounded more expansive than on their locked-down Formentera albums at the start of the decade. They still know how to write an epic song, but retrospection has led them back to synth-heavy indie rock, with big hooks and fantastic vocals.
The record begins with “Victim of Luck”, in which Haines considers the blast from those romanticized dives to an unexpected level of stardom. Life might be a “hot mess”, but Haines isn’t going to settle or count herself as a victim of fame (or luck), as she chooses instead to “live my life like it’s never been done”. The track and the rest of the album seek to understand the band’s story without becoming beholden to it. There’s plenty of time to reflect, but the sense of a rocket launch—”five, four, three, two, one”—continues.
Metric move from a rocket to a chariot in “Loyal”. Haines has spoken of the chariot as a metaphor for the band. In this steady cut, she admits that her “chariot’s been running on fumes,” but she has no problem with that. She thinks back to the early days, deciding, “I’d still keep every night,” ultimately acknowledging, “It’s always you / I’m loyal to you.” The airy vocal works within the context of a relationship, too, but in the context of the record, it’s a nice reflection on the support the band have lent each other over the years. It’s a long time to stick together with no lineup changes.
“Loyal’s” easy pop settles a record that much more frequently contains danceable rock. “Wild Rut” starts with a simple piano chord, but quickly becomes an indie rock number well-suited for a small club. “Time Is a Bomb” moves toward arena territory, swelling and opening into something bigger. Haines’ wordplay carries the song, mixing the meanings of “up” and “down” to refer to both an emotional state and romantic readiness. The track begins with hints of emotional unsteadiness before coalescing into the central idea: “You’re my happily ever after.”
With the mix of smart lyrics and forceful rock, Metric find themselves rolling on their return to the past. The record closes with “Leave You on a High”, a song likely to be an epic concert-closer, a wish for an audience as much as for a partner. Beyond the drugs and the other shortcuts, Haines finds a path for an ultimate high, and she says she’ll “say the words / That savе the world / ‘Come on, babe, wе’re not that cheap and cynical.'”
It’s a wonderful finish to an album that looks through various ups and downs, always seeking an accessible romanticism. Those underground dives may be dingy or dirty, but they can lead somewhere transcendent, and Metric have found the way up.