For all of its simplicity, there’s something about punk that’s just slightly inaccessible.
If it keeps too close to the formula, it’s derivative. If it strays too far, or even if it has the right sonics but the wrong attitude, it’s a sell out.
Even if a band captures all of the fury and wrath of punk live, capturing that energy on record is as difficult capturing lightning in a jar.
But nobody must have told METZ.