The first time I met A-trak was a couple of years back, when Lewis Chaplin and I took him to the bagel shop on Brick Lane for an interview. We got to watch him kneed dough and I was basically creaming in my pants the entire time, but the interview itself was a bit of a car crash.
Later on that evening I got drunk and proceeded to text his PR agent saying, 'HAS ALAIN EVER THOUGHT ABOUT ADDING A THIRD BARREL TO HIS NAME? LIKE 'TIVE'?!'
Suffice to say, the whole playing hard-to-get thing was out of the window by that time, not that I tend to use that technique much anyway.
We had a few run ins over the months that followed, one on his birthday gig where I filmed his whole set about 2 inches from his face holding a bike lamp in one hand and a cam corder in the other. Cool.
Despite my attempts, which, to be honest were pretty much non existent regardless of my lusting, nothing ever materialized. I swept my dreams of a Jewish wedding under the carpet and decided to move on with my life, but then the other week a glimmer of hope emerged.
It just so happens that the company I work for got asked to do the new A Trak campaign, and having to cover his press just rekindled loads of old feelings which seemed to climax yesterday before YoYo and manifest themselves as crazed Twitter updates:




Shockingly, this hugely professional display of affection didn't entice A-trak at all, and our brief encounter last night consisted of a gushing HELLO from me and a reluctant HI followed by a speedy U-turn from him. I'd say that he, much like Henry Holland, is on the verge of filing a restraining a restraining order against me.
My only consolation is the fact that he wears a stupid hat now, and his monobrow seems to have become a bit more prominent. But then, with love you grow to accept and admire peoples imperfections y'know?
(If you squint at this photo it kinda looks like he's leaning in for a hug)
