Thursday, December 22, 2011

show photos & review - dec 15th @ the burrow

I love smoking cigarettes. I often find myself sitting at a bar with a few beers in me and thinking "Goddammit I wish you could still smoke in bars". Or absolutely immobilized by a buffet and thinking "Goddammit I wish you could still smoke in restaurants". Or laying in bed after having sex with my partner and thinking "Goddammit I wish I could smoke in her apartment", and then I go to a place like The Burrow and I'm reminded why people smoke outside. That shit is nasty trapped indoors. (And yet I probably killed a whole pack that night).

The bands on this bill were better than most of the bands that weren't on this bill, However I have written at length how much I love them already. Not much has changed, so I'm gonna try not to repeat myself too much.



Eekum Seekum are a new band. This was their first show, and they were way tighter than any first show I've ever played. They managed to keep things pretty laid back and silly which made their set really accessible and fun. They are like some weird hybrid between pop-punk and indie rock, but not in the way you think. It almost seemed like they wanted to be darker and heavier but couldn't pull away from their pop sensibilities. This weird balancing act works for them. I've seen them self-described as queercore, and despite not knowing what that really means, it seems like the perfect description for Eekum Seekum.

Vixens are straight up, fast, raw hardcore. When I watch them play I feel like I'm doing something bad. Like I'm sinning. Like my grandma would be disappointed if she knew what I was doing, and I love it.



Money In The Banana Stand make me smile to a point where my cheeks always hurt the next day. Not because they are corny or immature, just because they are so spot on. Their new songs deal with more serious topics than their previous tunes, but the subject matter (see: depression, wasted youth) is tackled with the same straight forward approach that forces the audience to relate. (Or at least the upper-middle-class-white-male audience). My only criticism for these PEI heart throbs is they played too long. Unless you're Green Day, cap it at half an hour.


Castle Wolfenstein destroy me. School boy crushes aside, these kids know how to make a basement dance. They showed up, took off a few layers, tug-of-war-ed some mic cables and brought the breakdowns.

This was the first show of 5 that I attended on the weekend, and it definitely set the stage for three days of debauchery. Shit got real, Destruction ensued, and if it wasn't for curly fries I might not have made it through.

words: Rob Banks
photos: Rosie Toes (check more of her photography by clicking here).

No comments:

Post a Comment