Live Review: Metric, Glass Towers

Tonight's support Glass Towers have had a pretty big year – their debut album Halcyon Days charted well, and they've been busy touring locally and internationally. That experience shines through, with a tight and professional set that manages to hold the attention of the crowd. Vocalist Benjamin Hannam recalls Robert Smith so much at times that one song sounds like a Cure cover, while wailing guitars provide colour rather than a melodic hook to most of the tracks. When the hooks do kick in, they're subtle and interesting, and the combination of rhythm and lead guitar is handled well, with an almost stadium-rock scope (missing only the required pomposity). Their style is a touch too consistent to sustain the 40-minute set, but it's still an impressive collection of tracks that justify the heavy rotation their debut album has received.

Metric take the stage to the opening strains of Nothing But Time and the crowd erupts in cheers that continue until Emily Haines grabs the microphone and her distinctive voice announces the true beginning of the night. The start of the set draws heavily from their most recent release, Synthetica, to a solid response, but it's older tracks Empty and Help I'm Alive, back-to-back, that draw sincerely rapturous applause. James Shaw and Joshua Winstead are cool and collected off to the sides, while Haines holds the audience's attention, as she alternates thrashing around behind her keys with wild tambourine shaking front-of-stage.

The sound quality is good, as one would expect from The Tivoli, but the guitar and bass are a little under-mixed, leaving the songs sounding thin whenever the vocals and keys cut out. Haines' voice sounds a little tired, and she has a much rougher tone tonight than on the band's recording. After a short period of adjustment, this actually suits the songs well, replacing their icy distance with a more immediate aggression. While the sound is fine, everyone involved with designing the light-show owes the crowd an apology. Bright spotlights swing face-on at the audience for entire songs, and strobes flash blindingly out into the room. The band were probably entertaining during this time, but it's hard to tell with shielded eyes and a headache.

There's some woefully vague social commentary during the encore (“NY stop-and-frisk laws suck… wait, have you even heard of that? Eh, never mind”), but all is forgiven when Metric launch into The Police And The Private. And though an acoustic version of Gimme Sympathy is an anti-climactic end to the evening – following on from a blistering rendition of GoldGuns Girls – it's an interesting take, perhaps even an improvement on the original, and shows a band still happy to experiment.