by liam menzies (@blnkclyr)
It can be rather heart-warming to watch a musician, or a group of them, go from fans of someone’s work to fully fledged artists in their own right: the prime contemporary example is, of course, Brockhampton whose inception came from a request thread on a Kanye West forum but that isn’t to say it’s not happening just around the corner from you.
This is when the Glasgow act Quiche enters the fray: looking at the lads’ YouTube channel, the third most viewed video there is a cover of Mac DeMarco‘s Salad Days cut Let My Baby Stay (it’s before all that happened so dinnae worry) which goes to show the admiration of, what can be assumed, a big influence on the band’s work. The second cut from Let’s Be Friends, Costa Calma radiates the aforementioned influence and kicks things off in a very chilled fashion that those of the lo-fi rock genre will find familiar but undeniably full of charm, especially considering that the band manages to keep things vocally enticing. It’s also worth bearing in mind that despite how this song, in particular, evokes a similar sound, Quiche has to be commended for delivering such a textured audio landscape on their debut EP.
The previous paragraph may imply that Quiche are lacking some oomph but that’s not the case at all: their teeth are just stuck into whoever pissed them off on intro track Hor-cha, a song that could so easily be about sites telling you what’s good and what’s not (hey is that us?) or a pandering pal who is too afraid to be themselves (okay, maybe not us). It really goes to give this EP a heap of variety, not that you’d expect an awful lot considering how compact it is at three tracks long, so for the band to chuck on their punk shoes and give us a taste of what they can achieve if you catch the other side of them, it goes a long way to leave an indent.
As the EP draws to a close, Quiche let their collective hair down and open up to the listener, a nice touch for such an aptly titled release. Friends is this moment and it starts off with a very lonesome shoegaze-esque introduction, though more in the vein of Wolf Alice‘s Silk than anything off My Bloody Valentine discography, as the lead vocalist harks on about chemistry with someone who seems to bring the best out of any situation, regardless if there’s any tension or bad blood at any points. It’s pretty evident early on who, or what, the song is about and it’s hard not to appreciate a track that subverts your expectation while it does a solid job instrumentally with a nice job of mixing to be noted.
A blink (whatever the ear equivalent is) or you’ll miss it experience, Quiche use their roughly ten minutes with you to smack you in the face, soothe you with some lush guitars and vocals then leave you with a lovely song. It’s easy enough to forget a release as soon as it’s passed you but this Glasgow alt-rock outfit manage to leave the right kind of impression the first time around – our friend requests to them are on their way and yours soon will be too once you’ve given this a spin.