Feeling Unloved


My dog walks into the house, heads to the sitting room, pukes a little bit outside the door. I jump to grab him and put him outside. He sees this and leaps forward and vomits out a large brown porridgy circle onto our shitty carpet. No! No! Asshole! I shout and lunge toward him. Again he sidesteps and bounds to the other side of the room and spews again, this time a yellowy gungy, weetabix-with-milk mix so awful that Lil Stretch shouts, “Dad, I’m not sure I can take any more of this.” The dog runs out the back and starts barking at his own ass. The dog is an asshole of preposterous proportions.

So, to ease me out of this insanity, I threw on the new EP by Unloved. Four gorgeous songs from supagroup consisting of smoky-voiced singer Jade Vincent, Belfast DJ David Holmes and keys by Keefus Ciancia. Also two great remixes by Andrew Weatherall. The music has the sound of the one drink too many in a French jazz club, transfixed by the band, unaware that you are in the presence of brilliance. Most nights of the week the bands are shit. This is the noir soundtrack to a feel-bad Philip Marlowesque moment where Françoise Hardy walks in to the bar and shoots someone in the face with no consequence. Wild stony faces greet the scene. Blood seeps into the red velour carpet and disappears without a trace. Anyway, it’s taken my mind away from the dog puke.

It’s nice to see David Holmes back again (maybe he never went away). A man who loves music and whose cinematic tunes have livened up my lil munki life. An Irlanda producer who luckily for me never gets boring y’knaa, because everything good in Irlanda usually turns to depressing shite. From “Johnny Favourite,” through to “Guilty of Love,” he just seems to still have that singular vision that sets him apart from the rest. Never ever disappoints. It is also worth checking out his short movie “I am Here.” The bollocks can do anything. He’d probably fix the kickboards in your kitchen, but y’know in a really cool way. They’d be all red with dry ice seeping out from beneath them.

As it is election week, I am going to take some gigantic antidepressants, washed down with some sweet whiskey and in an act of petty petulant revenge, get royally sick on my asshole dog’s bed.

What an asshole.

Here’s “I am Here” right here, ya hear.

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