Without any investigation and based on zero statistical evidence, I’ve determined that the happiest and most successful bands in the world are trios. Solo artists get wrapped up in their own cult of personality and develop a paranoia that everyone is out to get them (they are); any even-numbered musical combo–duos, quartets, sextets and so on–are all doomed for deadlocked failure; seven members or more makes you Broken Social Scene; quintets are okay, but really, when you’re five, there’s always someone on the bottom whose one rehearsal away from quitting and turning the band into a quartet (and we know what happens then).
Edmonton’s Brunch Club are a trio, and their newly released self-titled EP is all the evidence I need to know that they’re loving every minute of making music. Opening number “Bed Bugs” is all about that magic number: three. A long-faced lament about finally having a place of your own and missing your old roommates, “Bed Bugs” is a charismatic jangle-pop crowdpleaser. It’s 125 seconds of pure, youthful exuberance, laced with the nervous expectation of burgeoning adulthood.
In just over 12 minutes, Ellen Reade (bass and vocals), Patrick Earles (guitar and vocals), and Clay Francis (drums) cover all the emotional bases of what it feels like to bounce back and forth across the border of adolescence and adulthood, never lingering too long on either side of the line. The same can be said of their sound and style; Brunch Club’s musical touchstones tap into the classic pop triumvirate of surf rock, C86, and twee pop, and the trio performs it with genuine heart and warmth.
