Note: The following excuse of  a review covers the  Children for Breakfast show at the Harley where the following bands played: Killing Fields of Ontario, No Kids, Mount Eerie. This is a verbatim transcription of a text conversation between the reviewer and his co-editor. Both will be fired shortly if they don’t change their behaviour. Apologies to bands and organisers. The show was good, it’s our reviewers who are shit.

Thanks

The Management.

From the desk of Quintana “Quinto” Haberno:

Coeditor supremo diary, Sunday 4th of April: I woke up in a strange place (Bristol). I was in Sheffield last night. How I ended up here? Why do I have a red sweater that smells of elderberries? And why is my mobile’s screen smashed up to bits? All good questions and because of a court injunction I can’t disclose all of them…still. I get into an internet café and I get in contact with a fella I write with.

Quinto: Hey, my main man, wotcha?
Sam: Listen, you fookin’ idiot, that’s the last time I go to a gig with you!
Q: What? What I did this time?
S: The guy from No Kids wants your head on a stick!
Q: Uh? Why?
S: Don’t you remember, you filthy old man?
Q: Err… let’s see, we went to The Harley yesterday, aye?
S: Yes, it was that gig that Children for breakfast was promoting.
Q: Ah, yes. Did I smashed somebody’s face again?
S: Besides mine? No.
Q: Business as usual then.
S: Any ways, we got there on time. First it was Killing Fields of Ontario.
Q: I don’t remember them.
S: You were by the bar, nicking free stuff and drinking gin and tonics.
Q: Were they good?
S: A little strange, but yeah. And you can’t go wrong with a bit of banjo. A few changes of style, but seems to be some potential there. They’re local, really dug the last song of their set.

I wonder for a moment if I should ask him the next question.

Q: Any songs you remember?
S: Didn’t hear them before and I saw no set list, so, no, sorry.
Q: You’re a horrible reviewer.
S: Sorry, who was the one flirting again with that girl that looked like Wednesday Addams?
Q: Aye, aye, can’t help it if she digs my hipster approved beard…and she didn’t have a can of mace, so double win for me.
S: Then you left the Harley and I had to pay your tab.
Q: Oh, yeah, had to get some chicken from West Street.
S: And then you started flirting with two girls at the fried chicken joint.
Q: Oh yeah, I texted you about it. Needed backup.
S: I don’t think. Do you know who they were?
Q:Err…can’t remember.
S: Well, while you were perusing into your fowl deeds…
Q:That’s a horrible pun, mate.
S: I let you indulge in your horny sexcapades, let me indulge into puns.
Q: Fine + 2 points.
S: So No Kids took the stage, and the fella seemed at loss for words. The rest of the band was AWOL, having dinner. There was a big mess up with the time slots. Still, he soldiered through, using some back up tracks on his trusty fruitbrandedmusicplayer (sorry, no brands – Q. ) and became a one-man funk machine.
Q: Groovy.

I felt a cheap twist coming up. Wonder if they serve food in this place?

S: Then the rest of the band joined in. No Kids play this mix of funk, seventies pop that soothes. It might not be complex, it might not be what people from tridentlogoed magazines might clamour for, but I really enjoyed it. It was a strange change after Killing Fields, but, hey, variety can break or make a gig and in this case it worked for, not against.
Q: Set list?
S: None. But they were good. Really good. And peppy. Trust me on this.
Q: I’ll dock your pay.
S: I’ll reveal to the world what happened at Bungalows and Bears in November.
Q:  … Next band.
S: So, after another while waiting, it came the turn of Mount Eerie.
Q: You are getting repetitive, guey.
S: Yes. It’s the end of the site.
Q: Booyah.
S: Anyways, Mount Eerie took the stage, and they sounded nothing like that bunch of free songs floating at archive.org. There’s none of that lo-fi bullshit in there, but a post rock jam, heavy on the drumming, heavier on the riffs. Songs followed no rhyme nor reason, but never stopped being short of awesome. Funny thing, the main guy from MOount Eerie, a certain mr. Phil Elverum, changed the microphones before playing. Maybe it was more for the mystique?
Q: Hurm. Hyperbole.
S: Well, it’s either my hyperbole or you disappearing midreview and leaving me both picture AND writing duties. The jams were loud, the music was intense, but it’s hard, nay, impossible to describe. You had to be there, instead of eating deep fried poultry.
Q: Yeah, I saw one song near the end, something about mountain in the sky or something, when the guy had this strange Jesus Christ pose at the end.
S: Cool moment. He could indulge into that sort of theatrics as the music deserved it.
Q: Nah, it was just pose. Bloody Americans.
S: Whatever, man.
Q:You bought me anything?
S: Got two cds. Will review eventually. The fella from Mount Eerie warned that it won’t sound the same, as his m.o. is usually rework his stuff live, so it sounds different from the albums. Pretty much what Mark Kozelek does now. Jam over the stuff, breathe new life into it.

I’m yawning and wonder why the red sweater has fake flowers stitched to it.

Q: Sounds promising. Anyways, did you get me the phone number?
S: Of who?
Q: Girl with red top.
S:Uh?
Q: Miss red blouse. Saw you flirting with her. Cool ink in her arm, bro.
S:I was just talking about the tour they are embarked, man, they were jumping into the mainland, into Germany, then Scandinavia and all those places. I was curious too about why were the rest of No Kids playing with Phil Elverum, but she didn’t. She mentioned that sometimes she goes on stage, but not that night. I told her she should’ve barged in, as there were plenty of pool cues to get “convince” the rest of the band to let her join in. I also asked about the album. She said it was happy music and I just mentioned that it was a welcomed change from some dreary stuff I had to do as of late.
Q:So, flirting, basically?
S: You are incorrigible.
Q: Ain’t I a little stinker?
S: Yeah, and just because, I won’t say why you ended up in a red sweater. Have a good time in Bristol.
Q: Hey, wait…

It was then that he hung up. I would spend the rest of the week in Bristol, wondering why the beach isn’t as attractive as I expected (I wanted drinks with little plastic umbrellas sticking by the side) and wondering if it’s wrong to hit on women 20 years your senior that looked like they’ve been dipped in Tango orange for 3 straight days.

Selah.

Words: Quinto. Pics: Sam.

Gallery.

Links

Killing fields of Ontario

Killing fields of Ontario Last.fm <— it has two free songs. GET THEM.

No Kids

Mount Eerie

Get some free (and very lo-fi songs of Mount Eerie) right here.