Meter by The Newmath: A Pop Rock Punch to the Gut
Alright, let’s cut the crap. Meter by The Newmath isn’t your run-of-the-mill 2003 rock album—it’s a raw, scrappy kick in the teeth that’ll make you sit up and pay attention. Linda Dalziel and crew didn’t phone this one in; they came out swinging with something that feels like it was born on a sweaty backroom stage somewhere in the U.S., not polished up for some big-label exec. No sir, this baby screams indie grit (released under Not On Label—fitting, right?).
First off, the title track Meter. Damn, it hits hard. It’s got this driving rhythm that grabs you by the collar and doesn’t let go until you’re mouthing the lyrics like a lunatic. The guitar work is sharp enough to slice glass, but there’s still this weird pop sensibility lurking underneath—all shiny hooks and sneaky melodies. You don’t just listen to “Meter”; you feel it. I’ve had this thing stuck in my head for days now, looping endlessly while I scrub dishes or rage at traffic lights.
Then there’s another standout—don’t ask me its name because honestly, I can’t remember every damn song title—but what I do recall is how it starts slow, almost lazy, then explodes into this chaotic mess of riffs and vocals that sound like they were recorded live during an earthquake. That unpredictability keeps you hooked. Like, who does that?! These guys clearly weren’t trying to play it safe, and thank god for that.
Here’s the kicker though—the whole album has this vibe like it shouldn’t even exist anymore. In 2003, everyone else was busy churning out overproduced garbage designed to sell jeans or whatever. Meanwhile, The Newmath dropped Meter, which feels more like a middle finger to trends than anything else. And maybe that’s why it sticks. Maybe that’s why I’m writing about it years later instead of forgetting it like all those other forgettable albums from back then.
So yeah, if you’re looking for cookie-cutter tunes to drone through your day, skip this. But if you want music that punches you awake and reminds you why rock ‘n’ roll used to be dangerous? Hit play. Just don’t blame me when you start trashing your room like it’s 1977 again.
Oh, and one last thing—they never made another album after this. Seriously, wtf? Guess sometimes great art just happens once, no explanations needed.
