metz live review

Fidlar & Metz Live Review & Concert Photos | State Theatre, St. Petersburg| May 11 2015

by • May 15, 2015

Surf psychedelic invaded the State Theatre in St. Petersburg in a potent, aggressive punch. Metz and Fidlar, co-headlining, hoisted unimaginable, contagious energy for a Monday night.

Fidlar, descending from the garages of California, boasts an outfit that resembles an early 2000’s pop-punk presence. A quick glance at the band itself gives you board shorts, Hawaiian-print shirts, and bucket hats that oozes a form of nostalgia, but their sound isn’t something age-y.

In fact, it’s sporadic, spastic youth that makes the Fidlar set work. The band’s acronym means “Fuck It Dog, Life’s A Risk,” and that echoes in their fanbase. From the first slam of hit “Cheap Beer,” the crowd went wild, tossing surfers onstage (and maybe a few shirts off? Wow, guys.).

Fidlar skates the line between punk and surf-garage, blending for a clobbering effect. If you’re looking to just bob along to the rapid-fire licks, stick close to the speakers or side-stage. The gratifyingly mauling experience in “No Waves” left me breathless–it’s the kind of experience you’d dream up for a movie. Was it perfect? Fidlar managed to squeeze in 15 songs in an hour set, springing a few new bounce-jams mixed in with some favorites from their self-titled release, Fidlar.

For as much as the band was concerned with “Florida crackheads,” Fidlar brought a new level of party-thrash (i.e. belted hit “Cocaine,” to which I still don’t understand how they got Nick Offerman in their music video) that most St. Pete punks had been lusting for. Which was quickly satisfied before Metz took the stage.

Maybe they were thrown out for moshing. Maybe it was the clobbering of crowd surfers that wore out them out. But the crowd was half its initial size when the fog machines signaled a set start. It’s a damn shame, but it was more Metz for me and more space for pummeling, writhing among the hardcore-inclined.

Toronto noise rockers, Metz, crushed through a series of grungy, roaring waves. Bassist Chris Slorach was near impossible to photograph, but in a set of this kind, that’s the highest compliment. Thrashy, enigmatic, and entrancing, Metz waded through songs from latest release, Metz II. “The Swimmer” built a steady crescendo of energy, releasing into a cataclysmic burst that seemed to rip through fans closest to the stage.

The three-piece offers a more transformative experience than their counterparts, almost lifting listeners into another dimension in “Spit You Out.” If there were a band I’d recommend to beginners to the shoe-gaze side of music, Metz would be at the top of my list. The crowd was disappointingly thin, but the addiction from loyal was thick.

Opener, Jensen Serf Company caused a sort of re-evaluation of my definition of good local music. Yes, I’ve slept on my new favorite local act. The St. Pete spin on psychedelic punk is a popular sound in the local scene, but duo Ben Saylor and Peter Kokkinakos have unleashed a new flavor from the depths of the garage. With Jensen Serf Company, noise-punk tastes appropriately echoing and memorable, a unique flavor that sinks in and oozes energy and influx. They’re exactly who you would envision opening for acts like Metz and Fidlar, but on a tour, and not just limited to their hometown stage.

Craving more, I can’t help but hope these acts take another trip through Florida, soon, especially Metz, who belted and boasted in surges of pure vitality. Kids who left–you really fucked up by missing the greater act of the night.

Fidlar & Metz Live Review by Amanda Starling.

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