A Farewell (and Hello) to Cuntz

It was my birthday this week. I went to the Planetarium on Sunday morning to celebrate and ended up feeling very fucking small. When I got home I finished A Farewell to Arms and felt even smaller. If there are any gods out there, they're all cunts.

'I'm completely lost, again. Help me?' Cuntz yell into the black chaos of the universe. They get a return volley of indecipherable guitar squall (work that one out Jodie Foster) and crystal meth for their troubles. Yeah, thanks cunts.

But there's other moments on Cuntz new album Aloha (15 physical copies left through Homeless Records as I write this) that brighten the quagmire. Like the meteor that smashed the dinosaurs out of existence only to leave the planet ready for small mammals, aloha means goodbye and also hello.



The best part for me is the knock-off AC/DC riff in the middle of 'Punt'. That, and the fact that 'punt' clearly rhymes with 'cunt', yet they abstain. That part made me feel a little better. Then it made me feel really great when, over the top of it, the neighbourhood amateur saxophonist started to repeatedly and unsuccessfully play the Star Wars theme.

We might be insects, but not all of that sucks.