Matt Nish-Lapidus a.k.a. mn-l, daintily bakes aural cupcakes that fuse the most brash and abrasive elements of minimal electronic music with choppy guitar pop. It's serious music that requires serious journalism - serious music journalism, with all the five W's and shit, but using nothing but song titles. Bunk Bedouin axed the musical questions.
WHO STOLE THE SOUL?
Once again, this is it
Turn it up
Here we go
But this time the rhyme
Gonna ask who did the crime
Then let's get down to the nitty-gritty
Like I wanna know who
Picked Wilson's pocket

WHERE HAVE ALL THE FLOWERS GONE? Into my dinner. But really, it completely depends on which version of the song you're talking about. I mean, who hasn't played this song... other than me.

WHO MADE WHO? AC/DC was one of the first bands that made me want to play guitar. They also made me want to wear school uniforms and be really ugly. As great as they are, they've got to be one of the ugliest bands on earth. Anyway, the point? Guitar = Good. But the final lesson is: Guitar + Computer + lots of spare time = a hard thing to explain to your grandparents.

WHAT TIME IS LOVE? I'm not sure my music is quite as danceable as this question implies.

WHAT BECOMES OF THE BROKEN HEARTED? I've heard there's a place they send those people. I think it's called France.

WHAT IS THE LIGHT? I think this has something to do with radiation poisoning. Love and radiation poisoning. I try to reinforce this idea with my performance. It begins with a big group hug and ends with everybody gathering around a 1970s microwave.

WHAT'S GOLDEN? The popcorn that comes out of the microwave after all the love. Oh, and my record after you all buy it.
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WHAT'S LOVE GOT TO DO WITH IT? Is this about me?

WHAT'S MY NAME? Your name or my name? Is that "my" in reference to me, as the reader? Is this questions meant to provoke some sort of exploration of the self? Maybe each reader needs to answer this on their own, when they're ready. This is not for you to force, Dean. You insensitive brute. Short answer: Matt. or Dean. It just depends on which way you read the question.

WHEN WILL I BE LOVED? As this interview speeds to an end, "When Will I Be Loved?" is not the first question that springs to mind. But since you asked: soon.

WHY CAN'T WE BE FRIENDS? Are you breaking up with me? First you call me fat, now you just want to be friends. And all that talk about love? Was it just meaningless? There will be no space in front of the microwave for you tonight.

BY BUNK BEDOUIN