New Romance for Kids

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New Romance for Kids
Founded 2001
Founder jason bissessar
Genre Various.
Country of origin Canada
Official website http://newromanceforkids.com/

New Romance for Kids is a DIY record label out of Montreal. Started in 2001, the label is owned and operated by Mathieu Lachapelle Guillaume Boudreau-Monty and Jason Bissessar."

Contents

[edit] Bands

  • Actarus
  • Brian Seeger
  • The Discord Of A Forgotten Sketch
  • the Expectorated Sequence
  • Hint Hint
  • Issue Sixteen
  • Mutiny On The Bounty
  • The Stolen Minks
  • Treasure Chest At The End Of The Rainbow
  • Yesterday's Ring

[edit] Releases

[edit] Sentences Turned Into Irony

Issue Sixteen NRK-001

[edit] S/T

The Discord of a Forgotten Sketch NRK-002

[edit] The Ghosts are Bleeding

Issue Sixteen NRK-003

[edit] Le 48e Parallèle

Various Artists NRK-004

[edit] Young Days

Hint Hint NRK-005

[edit] Montréal en feu (DVD)

Various Artists NRK-006

[edit] S/T

Actarus NRK-007

[edit] Back from El Rancho (12")

Yesterday's Ring NRK-008

[edit] S/T Split

Treasure Chest At The End Of The Rainbow/ Mutiny on the Bounty NRK-009

[edit] hairbomb

The Expectorated Sequence NRK-010

[edit] The Strings of Hochelaga-Maisonneuve

Brian Seeger NRK-011

[edit] ... And Starring at her hands Ophelia Said "..."

Issue Sixteen NRK-012

[edit] Family Boycott

The Stolen Minks NRK-013

The Discord of a Forgotten Sketch S/T NRK-014

[edit] S/T 7"

The Stolen Minks NRK-015

[edit] Improv Session

The Discord of a Forgotten Sketch NRK-016

===LOW=== EP Black Ships NRK-017

[edit] Carry on

HiFi Handgrenades NRK-018

some reviews

the Discord of a forgotten sketch Montreal Mirror, Nov 30, 2006 Vol. 22 No. 24 These Montreal musical miscreants owe as much to Albert Ayler as to techy hardcore or some of Mike Patton’s latest projects. Only settling on sections for milliseconds, the songs here show that the growing pains present on their debut EP are far behind them, while their arrangements are more bipolar than ever. DOAFS’s real strength is not overstating the angst in their angular, cut-and-paste arrangements, which veer into unbridled noise while discordant guitars ring with commitment and purpose. Production does get a bit spotty, but the band manages to knock sonic ineptitude aside with a clear vision that eludes pigeonholes. (Johnson Cummins)

the Stolen Minks Exclaim, 02/2007 Family Boycott plays out as a hail of wondrous energy through these eight spunky, riotous tracks. The Stolen Minks, who come rising out of Halifax on a wave of rockabilly inklings, ‘60s garage and surf punk swirls, are a quartet fit to become everyone’s new object of affection. As Rip It Up! tears it apart with a rollicking background of keyboards and riot grrrl-inspired vocals, it quickly becomes evident that the Stolen Minks are poised to rival the best of any scene they set foot on. All members pitch in on vocal duty, giving Family Boycott varying expressive dynamics. The songs are short and textured with murky, sticky moments that are enveloped in the band’s vigour. The anthemic Fight! passes by in a blur of twists and shouts, while Stop Talking sees the band take on a highly dramatic style that shows the diversity the Stolen Minks can apply to their song writing.(Liz Worth)

Actarus Punk Planet, N.70 Man, I love pleasant surprises. That's the best thing about reviewing records. I had never heard of Actarus, but damn, I was missing out. This Luxemburg quintet tears it up. Super melodic guitars mixed with varied time signatures combine with Actarus' intense fury to provide an attack like a punch in the face. Instrumental math rock can either be boring as shit or ultra-interesting, and Actarus demonstrates their ability to make it interesting. (MB)

Yesterday's Ring Impact Press (Winter 2006 Edition) Wonderful Americana rock (or is it Canada-ana for these Quebecors?), with just enough twang and Tex-Mex for spice, plus a sense of bittersweet humor that makes this release a pleasure to listen to. Hoarse, weathered vocals talk of life on the road, cigarettes, whiskey and longing. This album features great songwriting with moments of folk, Country & Western and even hints of the Replacements more somber moments. Highly recommended. Hey, Yesterday's Ring, next time you head to El Rancho, I wanna go! (H)

The Expectorated Sequence Exclaim: Dec/Jan 2005 It's no secret that the French-speaking part of the Great White North has long harboured some of the very best metal bands in existence. In recent years, its more aggressive hardcore noise scene has also started to make substantial waves, and while time will only tell if there's a Voivod or Cryptopsy to emerge in that genre, they are off to a strong start. While the bio drops way too many Daughters comparisons for their own good, the Expectorated Sequence strike upon a violent, noisy, frantic combination of Orchid-like spastic expulsions and vaguely anthemic moments, Buried Inside's noisy dirge (or, you know, Neurosis's) and explorations, moments of pure, unrelenting Locust cacophony and abrasion, some Patton-esque/Fantômas-style screaming and noise, and, yes, in maybe a song or two, the Daughters - maybe. What sets them apart (even though they still need to distil into that "signature" sound) is the way they throw sludgy-doom cycling and build into the frantic attack, and the way they also incorp orate vaguely catchy, scream-y bits that kids with cool angular haircuts can dig. While still finding who they are and their sound (the joke-y title and artwork reveals this), the Expectorated Sequence are another young band who have the potential to rise above the Locust and Daughters references.

Brian Seeger Ottawa Xpress / Hour Montreal (07/09/2006) You weren't even going to go out that night. In fact, you'd told yourself you were going to be good and maybe get a head start on your laundry so you'd have some clean socks for the weekend. And then, seemingly minutes later, you're stumbling out of a strange apartment, squinting at the sun, with some vague memory of a bunch of kids playing guitars and banjos all night, singing songs about Jesus and gasoline, and maybe a Hank Williams song - or was it Leadbelly? - taking breaks to see who could eat the most soda crackers without drinking. It feels like hour 300 of a road trip, your head has become an iron casket half-filled with used motor oil sloshing back and forth, and then you're home and someone is happy you're home but mad as hell. (Paul Spence)