Finally, after the onslaught of Eddie Vedder and Kurt Cobain sound-alikes in modern rock, Michael Stipe gets his own vocal doppelganger-- Swords singer/bassist Corey Ficken. Not to dwell on the likeness, but damnnn...this dude mirrors Stipey's breathy croon, whiney yelps, and penchant for vague, impressionistic lyrics to a T. Oh yeah, and he hates conservatives, too. Fortunately though, this Portland, Ore., six-piece does better service to R.E.M. than, say, Creed and the Vines respectively did to Pearl Jam and Nirvana, and judging by these high-concept lyrics and song structures, they're obviously not looking to cash in on a teenage demographic raring to buy anything resembling their older siblings' fav records.
Now to loosen up these R.E.M. handcuffs; until this album these guys were making a serious case for the "American Mogwai" title. Not that Metropolis reveals a sudden interested in perfecting the three-minute folk-pop song, but here Ficken doesn't let his vocals get upstaged by violins or chimes. While over half the songs from their first album, Entertainment Is Over if You Want It (recorded as Swords Project), reached well past the five-minute mark, Metropolis trims down the average song length to about four-and-a-half minutes. The result? Imagine the hooks of New Adventures in Hi-Fi and Up boiled down and vulcanized into heady, sprawling post-punk, all saccharine melodies with artificial sweeteners.
Fortunately, the synergy between guitarists Ryan Stowe and Jeffrey Gardner continues flourishing despite the increase in cogent melodies. Haunting raga riffs adorn opening anti-war polemic "Product of Harm", recalling Peter Buck's obscurer works like "I Remember California" and "Oddfellows Local 151" while Ficken seemingly plagiarizes Stipe's anti-Bush harangues: "Substitute words with revolvers, baby/ This scene's got a western theme." However, as both the song's closing lines ("A crimson pool the liquid spilling in/ Cut to empty space") and band's previous album title punctuate, Ficken's biggest beef is with media and its effect on the masses.
On "Radio Radio", Stowe and Gardner intermittently fire fractured guitar squeals, playing the ambulance to Ficken's cries of "Medical, medical please get me out!" as he plays the role of a radio playing shitty music. "Savage Republic" offers a more palatable, and sensical, criticism, showcasing the band at their most playful. While the guitars evoke skittish Clash reggae, Ficken lampoons poseurs and blind followers in perhaps his most direct attack: "'Love this song/ Hummed it all day long'/ Hate this song/ Dance to it all night long." Not exactly Art Brut here, but Ficken makes the most of his modest charisma without sacrificing the band's instrumental textures and complexities. Hell, at one point the dude comes out of his shell enough to jab at the NYC music scene. Sure, the hooks may sputter, the "atmosphere" has its holes, and Swords'll leave you pining for a certain Athens band in their prime, but there's something admirable about some guys from Portland trying to rejuvenate activism in indie rock-- as long as it's not by personifying a radio.
