If last week was representative of the metaphorical work-related mudslide subsiding, and/or us clambering on top of that shit, then this week is when we got sucked right back to the bottom of the pile of shite. We’re like the bad guy who actually thinks that they got away with it. But now we realise we can never leave. Or rather, we can never have all the time that we need to get all this shit done, particularly in reference to dealing with people who seem to have all the time in the world and do fuck all. Or the one thing we’ve asked them to do a while ago. Are we just going fucking mad? Probably. Its a little hard not too when in several respects (primarily just getting to the proverbial finish line of this year) we’re in touching distance with all the things we quite want to have right this minute. So, please please please let us get what we want. For the millionth time. Clearly in this self-wound-up mood that we’ve placed ourselves in (Ben Soep and Intern Naomi are attempting to alleviate our periodic snappiness via anecdotes ranging from stories of different PR people to a friend who recently got mauled by a real-life grizzly bear – yes, it is all happening here at Killing Moon right now), we need something as pensive and thought-provoking as it is calming. Let’s talk about these guys Easy Kill, who have positioned themselves as purveyors of the finest quality doom-pop. Although we’re not entirely sure what that means, we are of course into it. Easy Kill are four dudes from Manchester and have already achieved quite a bit, not just via the aforementioned purveyance of a made-up genre name that we’re quite enthralled by, but also by way of the string of live performances of late that include festivals like A Carefully Planned Festival as some others at more traditional gig settings which were going to go ahead and assumed took place in and around their local stomping grounds. And they played Sebright Arms last night, which is nice. By way of references, we’re imagining smacking together the worlds that Mogwai, Noah & The Whale, and The Kooks collectively occupy, but only in the bit where that overlapping space exists. We wish we could draw you a graph, but you’ll just have to roll with us here. We also have in mind an acoustic Radio 1 kinda guy, the name of whom we can’t even think about right now given that we’re monologuing and have zero time on our hands. Isn’t it a shame we know next to fuck-all about chart music?
Easy Kill – Mould