Who/what are Unbunny? We do know that US songwriter Jarid del Deo’s involved, but beyond that hard facts are difficult to come by. Even their label appears unaware of the exact current location of the Unbunny operation or how many years it’s been since he/they last released an album, nevermind divulging any facts about del Deo’s life beyond a few vague nods towards a restless existence. The distinct impression is that of an artist determined to let the music do the talking – all of the talking.

Thankfully, this stuff’s well worth listening to. That unpromisingly punning band name/alter ego may hint at some sort of a comedy country act, but Unbunny follow an illustrious lineage of permanently heartbroken American songcraft. The ghost of Neil Young weights particularly heavy over the proceedings, due not least to del Deo’s high-pitched, keening voice that passes enough of a resemblance to the Canadian legend to be declared an instant winner in any soundalike competition.

Musically, too, Unbunny share quite a bit with Young, including the understanding that sparse acoustic laments (Cell Phone, Young Men Are Easy Prey) sound best when parked right next door to amp-humping, melody-sweetened rockers (Design Flaw). Both parties are also equally unswerving in their fundamental belief that overt polish equals poison. Consequently, parts of Moonfood aren’t so much first takes as early rehearsals, and at times the sound’s so threadbare you’d suspect half the musicians hadn’t made it to studio by the time some impatient soul hit the record button. But who needs intricate arrangements or bombast when the tunes are this strong?

These songs exist in a gloomy universe where (false) hopes are pinned on a “wishbone drying on a window sill” (the crunchy Whispers) and Valentine’s Days are spent “more dead than alive but still breathing…counting car lights on the ceiling” (the wonderfully weary closer February Secret). A song about being on a Winning Streak is about the protagonist being on anything but. All of which might sound like an unbearable misery-fest, but del Deo’s gift for a winning couplet and sense of humour keep self-pity at bay.