Do not be turned off by the banal name or pun of the band’s cassette. See past your scrunched nose (if you can open your eyes from the initial horror shock). What lies inside Break Fast may be the rudimentary first steps of a band on the cusp of some feverish attempt at Endless Boogie (or at the very least Vietnam) jams. Everything about Stay At Home Dads is stonewashed and Nag Champa scented. It’s a carefully maintained and carelessly driven Z-Roc. There’s a sense of pride in each low fidelity trip and though the room for improvement is about as spacious as the backseat of the Z-Roc, that’s still room for growth for a band. Stay At Home Dads are a good production job and a pruning of their ’70s arena rock collection away from something worth near-worship. As it currently stands, Break Fast is the kill time between roach hits and play dates. The bones are sturdy but the meat isn’t fleshy. In the meantime, live vicariously through this Brooklyn band before they blow up and you are left holding the scraps.
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