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METZ

Any non-acronymed band hostile toward lower-case letters earns one raised eyebrow. METZ, however, earns both, and that’s a compliment.

The early 1990s have returned, but where most bands inspired by the 120 Minutes era are either opting for British shoegaze or American grunge, Toronto’s METZ likes it all. Noisy like My Bloody Valentine, pummeling like The Melvins and hooky like The Pixies, the trio whirrs together a post-punk/post-hardcore mix that benefits from genuine songcraft and a steady hand behind the boards (which belongs to Graham Walsh of Holy Fuck). On the spectrum of nu-school amp-blasters, it fits somewhere between Ceremony and Health.

Spin its recently released, self-titled debut and you’ll hear steady but serrating guitar riffs, bountiful bass lines and unforgiving percussion. The sum of those parts is forceful, but not forced; assertive, but not aggro. METZ measuredly unleashes its fury in often tight, almost tidy packages. And on Saturday, it will also unleash that fury upon anyone wise enough to catch this bracing upstart early on. With Douglas and the Furs and Caravels. 10 p.m.; Beauty Bar, 517 Fremont St., www.ticketcake.com, $5.