Welcome to the measure dome

Of all the Canadian hopefuls tipped for post-Broken Social Scene success, Metric would seem the band best equipped to crash the mainstream.

Certainly, the Toronto quartet pack their share of killer anthems: their recent Live It Out album subjects a rag-bag of indie clichés to an electrifying avant-pop makeover. Bubblegum and brains come together triumphantly on the record – Metric’s winsome ditties have been lifted straight from the alt. pop A-Z, but are delivered with uncommon sass and brio.
Metric also know how to create a stir: the video to the ‘Monster Hospital’ single paid tribute to an obscure Brian de Palma movie by turning the screen icky with fake blood – the promo was as gross and it was unforgettable. Kudos for the group’s controversial streak go to frontwoman Emily Haines, a china-doll indie princess who doesn’t mind making a show of herself. She once even played a concert blindfolded.
“Well, not an entire concert,” counters Haines, killing time backstage at Spirit, the Dublin club where Metric will make their Irish debut a few hours from now. “Actually I just did it for one song. I hadn’t planned it or anything. People have asked if I was trying to make a statement. I mean, come on: what sort of statement could you possibly make by putting on a blindfold and playing piano? It was just a crazy idea I had. I get crazy ideas all of the time.”
Haines is something of an indie pin-up , a fact which has caused her no end of disquiet. A natural strawberry blonde, she dyed her hair black for years in order to make herself look more androgynous.
“I was uncomfortable with my femininity to a degree,” she admits. “I wanted to be one of the guys, which is why I wore my hair black. But you get over that. You learn to accept yourself for what you are, in totality.”
Besides hanging out with Broken Social Scene (all four played on BSS' last record), Metric can count members of Yeah Yeah Yeahs and TV On The Radio as friends.
“We all used to share a house in Brooklyn, when we were starting out,” reminisces Haines. ”Nick Zinner from the Yeah Yeah Yeahs lived with us. Karen O didn’t but she used to call by. Remember that this was before Brooklyn became gentrified. It really was the place that the rest of the world had forgotten about. We were all broke too. At one point there were nine people and two bathrooms. We were all working day jobs and being miserable. I guess you could say it was pretty real.”