Homestead fiuntas, ag theacht chun tí
Tweet There's a pub in the centre of Kells I hate to walk past. The outside of it is falling to shit. Diseased flaps of maroon paint peel from its sign and even on the warmest days streaks of dampness taper from below its windows. The outside walls are full of worryingly deep cracks which make me think the building itself is fucked beyond repair. It depresses me and symbolises something about the whole town at the moment. A shabby hopelessness. One out of five are unemployed in Kells these days. We are a cliché from a David McWilliams essay, the failed commuter town. Kells Angels - that's the hideous little catchphrase he used to describe people (sorry Pope's children) working in Dublin but living in the towns in the adjacent counties, and who are now rapidly becoming jobless. In the new estate nearby, lights only come on in half the houses at night. A sign with bleached bunting from 2007 hanging uselessly from it still advertises show houses. To top things off, I'd swear there are more magpies around the place. I see them and hear them rasping everywhere. You know that poem "one for sorrow, two for joy...?" Well what happens if you see 12 of the beaked bad omens? Because that is how many magpies I counted perched at various levels in the hedge adjacent to the Gael Colmchille centre recently. Carrion birds and flaking paint. Thank fuck I'm off to Primavera next week. Séamus's freckles rendered his tattoo somewhat redundant. Righto. Irish bands part 1. Parts 2 and 3 are coming soon. MP3: Subplots-Poltis Subplots On Myspace When I first heard Subplots I thought they weren't my cup of cocoa. "Too lush and slick with all that OK Computer style counter-melody and sweeping production", I pretentiously muttered, lashing another Jay Reatard C90 into a knackered cassette player. I was wrong. They are fab. The best songs on the Nightcycles record share a spooked beauty. Poltis is a real nocturnal summer song. Soft darkness, night-scented garden plants and concrete walls still cooling down from the heat of the day. MP3: Super Extra Bonus Party-Mark Hughes Top Corner SEBP On Myspace I can't exactly put my finger on what this instrumental romp from the new Super Extra Bonus Party album "night horses" reminds me of - The Go Team maybe? Anyway, the resplendent trumpet riff running through it celebrates a Welsh soccer player booting home a goal. Exhilarating and childlike (as opposed to childish) goodness. MP3: Hunter-Gatherer-You're Dead After School Hunter Gatherer On Myspace This is tonal, otherworldly electronic stuff that never loses sight of its unnerving melody. The hissing effects on this track from Hunter Gatherer sound like distilled anxiety and the image which accompanies the track is of someone holding their creased brow in their hands. A bully once told me he was going to kill me after school. He stuck to his word and split my nose open with a fist encased in a leather BMX glove. On a cold day. And on that note I'll be off.