Jiordan Castle

Before Metric ever appears on Sunday night at Terminal 5, Brooklyn-based band Bear in Heaven opens for a willing crowd. They play for what seems like an eternity (largely because they’re the only supporting act). I sit upstairs for most of their set, seated between the masses of paper bracelets; I count a beer in every other hand. And though it’s a rarity these days, there isn’t much of an age gap in the audience, which makes the music more of a priority than the setting itself.

The scene is very casual, very relaxed, and most everything is going well. But what strikes me is that the lighting for the entire opening act is awkward at best. It’s dark and moody for the first half of every song, but then a blinding white light will flash over the crowd, as if to wake us from the dead. Every five minutes. It has all the makings of a warning for video gamers against seizures.

Still, the sound itself isn’t bad from upstairs. Overall, Bear in Heaven is a very personable bunch and their instrumental tangents are solid. Their latest release, hailed by Pitchfork Media as their “Best New Music,” is a bit too big for an iPod. It’s a full experience, best experienced in literal surround sound.

When I get downstairs and Emily Haines takes the stage, it’s like indie rock’s own Tinker Bell has come to life. Otherwise a typical singer-songwriter from Toronto, Emily looks every bit the part. It’s New York, it’s a major venue, and hundreds have packed into the sold-out show just to see this little woman work her magic.

With her blonde mane tangled around her face, she starts the show with “Twilight Galaxy,” a track from their 2009 album Fantasies. While that alone seems to get the audience on their feet, it’s not until the fourth song, “Help I’m Alive,” that people go crazy for the band. Emily Haines is the human equivalent of plugging in an electric guitar. She pounds her fists, belting out, “If you’re still alive, my regrets are few/If my life is mine, what shouldn’t I do?” The thing about seeing a band like Metric live is that it appears intimate because it is. Therein lies a quality that rings true.

To break from the norm, they place pieces of “Fight For Your Right” (Beastie Boys) and “Hey Hey My My” (Neil Young), too. The set is a nice mix of old and new, with tracks like “Gimme Sympathy” and “Stadium Love” drawing cheers and chants from everyone. My only dissatisfaction comes from wanting more. Metric’s discography has grown quite a bit in the last few years, making it tough to be satisfied with a setlist of 13 songs. That’s how I’ve always felt when a band I love is ready to go.

But then the encore hits (“Monster Hospital” to start) and it’s easy to stay in the moment. Finally, Emily sings an acoustic version of “Combat Baby,” which is equally sexy and surprising. The whole night is a blurry electro fantasy, which is, come to think of it, exactly the point. Metric is an airy existential daydream, and all it takes is a ticket to ride.