Mirah: My Metric Substitute

It is officially autumn, yet the seasons are in limbo: some days are sticky and muggy, while others sharply wake you up when the damp, cold air hits you on the first step out the door in the morning. I'm ready for "summall" to be over and I welcome fall in its entirety with open arms. I'm ready for layers. I'm ready for fallen leaves. I'm ready for a change.

Just like the seasons' irresolute nature, I'm finding myself in the same state, too. I'm not sure where I'm headed but I'm content as is. I have no idea what I'm in the mood to listen to, and I really haven't cared too much about figuring it out. So I'm listening to whatever comes my way, which just so happened to be Metric last night.

They were in town for Rockin' the Knox, a fundraiser for our Albright Knox Museum here in B-lo. Technically I saw Metric, but I don't know if I'd say I went to the event. Okay well, I went but I didn't pay the $45 to listen inside the chicken-wire fence. Instead I road my bike, with folding chair in a bag around my shoulders, and set on up off to the side. I could still see the stage and could hear the music just fine. On top of that, I could enjoy my own beer and even ordered some take-out chow, which got delivered right to me and my pals. For a second I felt a little bad for not paying to see the show, but got over it quickly when I reviewed, once again, just how much money I was saving my sitting on the sidelines with my own bevs that didn't cost me $5-7 a piece.

Now I'm sure I'd be able to produce an exciting review of the show if I had actually been inside staring Metric in the face, but I wasn't and I don't have any such review. Instead, the show just made me want to look on: it motivated me to shake out of my recent uninspired state and find some new tunes. So, with Metric fresh in my mind I wondered what or who was out there that had a similar sound. What I found was Mirah.

Her full name is Mirah Yom Tov Zeitlyn. Her sound is striped down, delicate and fun. Her voice is very similar to Ms. Emily Haines. The baseline, and simple chords carry her lyrics from beginning to end in "Sweepstakes Prize."

"La Familia" is a bit hypnotic with the repeated line "If we sleep together, would it make it any better." Around 1:54 there's this kind of childlike--"Nah nah nah nah nah nah," "A tisket a tasket a brown and yellow basket"--rhythm that conjures up an image of a young girl beside herself in her quintessential teenage room: it's plastered with band posters, photos of friends goofing around and college ruled notebook paper with doodles and poems that were started but never finished.