Del Amitri
Twisted
A song can be a comforting blanket in hard times or a jagged sword plunged into our hearts. A cold reminder of a difficult time or a warm backdrop to a treasured moment. They can even bring back memories of those we lost along the way. Whether we want to remember or not.
Songs were created by their author but they belong to the listener. To all of us. We cannot choose to take ownership; instead, the songs choose us. They do not mean what they say, they mean what we hear. They mean different things to different people; those meanings often having very little to do with the original intentions of the author.
A song can change. It can become something else. It can become relevant to us in a certain way when previously, it was not.
Justin sings of snow. It covers up the cracks in the road. It fell yesterday, then thawed. It is beautiful, but only falls when it is cold. One minute that beauty can surround us, then the next minute it can be gone.
I split from my wife of 13 years in 2018. “Never too late to be alone”, before that moment, was ‘just’ a great song. Yet since January 2018 it became, perhaps, the song that has most embedded itself into my, relatively nondescript, life story. I have no idea how many times I listened to that song, enormous over-ear headphones like blinkers as I trotted to, and returned from work each day that year. It did what Del Amitri does best. It warned me of what was to come, then comforted me when I found myself staring into space - suitcase waiting by the door. And now it holds that painful time in its relatively upbeat-sounding grasp. The playfully positive-sounding backdrop juxtaposed with the sombre futility in the lyric. A razor in a rose garden. This absolutely encapsulates what Justin’s writing does, and has always done for and to me.
1995 saw the release of Twisted. I was 20. I had grown a little by then. I had a girlfriend, a relationship destined for failure. I lived in a rented flat. I would move back to my parents, but I was unaware of this at the time. My songwriting was better. It, too, had matured. It was… Ok. I played acoustic, not electric. Because I associated that with Del Amitri more than electric. I liked whiskey remorse and Fred Partington’s daughter and songs in their vein. Clever tales with twisted endings. And, my goodness, is Justin great at writing twisted endings. Always the last to know. It might as well be you. I loved those endings. Although, I’m sure the album name had more to do with twisted emotions and complicated relationships.
At the time it was Here and Now which caught me in its spell. I learned to play it as soon as I could. It’s harder to keep up with that vocal than it is to play the guitar part. I could and can handle the falsetto at the end quite well but the pace of the lead line is relentless. It’s a wonderful song and the band is just perfect in their performance. Of course. It just sounds easy when they play it. And the guitar solo in the outro is their best.
Of course, as I’ve no doubt made clear by now, I was an emotional little sod. I’m now an emotional tall sod. I’ve always seen more beauty in melancholy than in happiness. More emotion in sadness than comfort. Rawness. A purer, less diluted emotion. Happiness is in the moment; fleeting. But sadness is enduring. It takes hold and sticks. I can feel it more. It’s the negative emotions that, for me, simply mean much more in art, especially in music. Especially in songs. In this world, Justin is king. A world where I remain his keen apprentice, but I’ll never come close.
One thing left to do cut through my skin and got inside me. Emotionally, it’s the standout track on the album for me. Tell her this and it might as well be you are sad. But one thing left to do cuts much deeper. I would lie in the dark with my headphones and listen. It is one of those songs which could surround you. It is more than its sum of parts. It feels nearly like a suicide note. It paints such a vivid picture of darkness.
We were also given “start with me” on this collection of awesome. To me, that was the door, starting to open, behind which would be Some other suckers parade. A real live rock band track filled with the same form of energy of the album-yet-to-come. What a riff!
If waking hours reflected my grey views of a Scottish coastal upbringing and change everything warned me of failures yet to come then Twisted kept me singing, dancing and deep in thought. And, as always, knew who and what I was.
Songs are everything. They are the result of one person’s experience, and then the soundtrack to the experiences of another. Justin and Iain created a songwriter of me too songwriter, 31 years and counting. They gave me more than just their songs. Like paper chain dolls we are shaped by what is removed, but a big part of me was and is shaped by Del Amitri being added. Twisted remains at the top for me in a lot of ways. And it’s always there for me when everything else comes crashing down.
