Quit Brooding.

If you’ve ever watched a ten month old baby bang her hands and heels against high chairs, slobbery toys and mom’s head, you’ve seen glee. There’s primal satisfaction in open-palm hitting things when you’re happy. Replace the chew toy with a tin stove element cover and slap a wooden spoon in the other hand–now adept at gripping things–and you’ve got a loud, smacking noise that’ll reverberate through your ear canals and instincts. But it doesn’t sound as good until there’s a soundtrack behind it… And that’s where Elliott Brood nails the cookie sheet.

Windsor ON death country band Elliott Brood has been making crescendos in my eyes, ears and mouth for a few years. Their mixture of raging banjo, thudding drums and crafty guitar, all the while singing about raw heartbreaks and getting the fuck over them, makes anyone who’s been dumped, lost or left behind kick off their shoes, strap on a smile and keep truckin’. There’s glee in moving forward, like nothing since you first heard yourself bang your toys on the floor.

Elliott Brood, independent music photographer

They came to Nelson BC on October 6, 2009. Come back soon…

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