Behind the Poster of a Girl

Knives Don’t Have Your Back is a vaporous collection of piano ballads so subtle and airy that each seems to float in on a breeze, instead of being conveyed by such messy physical occurrences as the striking of keys and vibration of vocal chords. Such understated offerings would be overlooked if not delivered by Metric frontwoman and indie queen Emily Haines.Usually a punky dynamo, Emily bares her soul on Knives. Heavy-hearted melancholy is the one weight that pins this solo effort to earth. Fortunately, Emily’s sweet voice and ethereal musical arrangements reveal beauty in sadness. “Doctor Blind” comments on the thoughtless prescription of pills with her best aching vocals over a haunting piano melody and Todor Kobakov’s strings. When Haines whispers “I wake up lonely” on “Crowd Surf Off a Cliff” or repeats “Some part of you, too small to lose” in hushed tones on the title track, it’s enough to stop a heart.

Knives Don’t Have Your Back is an album with many exquisite moments. However, great patience is often required between them as Haines tends to slip into cheerless discontent or drowsiness, and quiet notes meld with overzealous application of the sustain pedal. At times, you may long for the thrill and gleam of other soloists, craving PJ Harvey’s jarring, throaty vocals or Regina Spektor’s hectic jubilance.

If you don’t mind chasing notes that seem to dance on the wind like dandelion seeds, you may find Knives an album you can love. Regardless, any student of rock should at least own this album as research into the head and heart of indie’s “it” girl — then bring it out on rainy Sundays.