On May 28th 2021 Del Amitri release their first album for 18 years “Fatal Mistakes”. It will also be almost 32 years since I first heard “Nothing Ever Happens”. All the talk of the new music has sent me on a journey back to the years before, during and after the time that the band went beyond being purveyors of pleasant songs about life, love, regret and sadness with a country feel and gorgeous sideburns to become the very essence of my existence. “Bloody hell Dave, a bit dramatic that”. Maybe, but to celebrate… probably the wrong word, to recognise the release of “Fatal Mistakes” I need the catharsis of sharing why they seeped so far into my soul that they took me over like a some parasitic denim clad alien bit by bit until I became defined by them. Even now, 18 years since they released a record.
1989 was a huge year for me. It was the year my life went from carefree lad about town to co habiting with my future wife and her young son. It all happened so quickly. Met her in March, living with her by July and life completely changed. I’m sure I’d heard “Kiss This Thing Goodbye” on the radio when first released in August 1989 but it hadn’t really registered. Why would it? Why would a country music song register with my still pop loving ears and new happy home life? It meant nothing to me so it passed me by. I do remember the first time I heard “Nothing Ever Happens” though. I thought it was Sting. No internet meant I had to wait to hear it again, and thanks to Radio 1 I heard it often. It made it to number 11 early in 1990 and put Del Amitri on Top Of The Pops. There they were on their stools looking like nothing else going on at the time but something triggered in me. I know for a fact I wanted to look like Justin and began to grow my hair. Then I definitely heard “Kiss This Thing Goodbye” when it was re-released in March 1990 as the life changing honeymoon period was over it completely resonated with me. Those opening lines
“It seems like weeks since you looked at me baby, without that look of distaste. I don’t know why your feelings are changing but I’ve seen it in your face”
For the first time Justin Currie had stared into my soul and found where I was at and began to gnaw away at my psyche. I’m not going to talk about too much personal stuff. I made mistakes and we’ve all moved on eventually but not without a lot of pain on all sides. This is about the music and how it devoured me. I had to own “Waking Hours” and bought the cassette. Every song was like a gut punch. I will confess here that as a young, inexperienced man looking for explanations to how my life was working out these songs set out a narrative that I allowed to define my life. “Let’s Kiss This Thing Goodbye”. Yeah why don’t we? But I didn’t…
“Why do you take the opposite view? Is it something in your nature that makes I hard to say, “Baby I do”. You don’t have to agree when someone says they love you but you don’t have to take the opposite view” Bloody right Justin…
“From this side of the morning I couldn’t care less.. “ well actually I couldn’t have cared more but you get the picture. Ten songs each an emotional roller coaster confirming and validating all my thoughts. Why didn’t I run? I cant tell you. Naivety, ignorance, immaturity, a sense of responsibility of needing to make it work? Well that and another child on the way at the end of 1990. So at 25 Del Amitri were the soundtrack to a life I was completely unprepared for yet up to my neck in. The vicious circle continually turning between real life and the life depicted in “Waking Hours” until I couldn’t separate one from the other.
My son arrived in 1991 and no surprise the pressure increased. Like the frog in the pan of boiling water so loved by psychologists life was heating up around me but I just didn’t feel it. I was just in it, boiling away. Then in 1992 Del Amitri released “Change Everything” it changed nothing for me but was another collection of songs hewn from the genius of Currie’s writing and transported into my increasingly fevered mind. More validation where I didn’t really need or want it but I absorbed every word. Just the titles of the songs. “Be My Downfall”, “Just Like A Man”, “I Won’t Take The Blame”, “The First Rule of Love”, “The Ones That You Love Lead You Nowhere”. HOW DID HE KNOW??? How was every song, every lyric, every knowing couplet delving deeper and deeper into my life.
I think you get the point. Two more albums during the 90s “Twisted” which included “Driving With The Brakes On” that I still struggle to listen to to this day such is the sadness it brings with it. “Some Other Suckers Parade” just full of more of the same. Even the lighter “Not Where It’s At” was absolutely prescient of where my life was. Songs like “No Family Man” just reaffirmed my belief that I was failing at every turn.
“Have you got something to prove with your own little you?
Have I wasted my time, cut through the family line?
In the race to life, I am an also ran
But I’ve run enough to know, I’m no family man
Yeah, I’ve done enough to know I’m no family man”
Why did I keep listening? You may as well ask why drink or take drugs or gamble? It made my life make sense and made me feel perversely better. Just a good old wallow in self pity. I was failing, not good enough. The reality of course was completely different. Holding down a job that was increasing in responsibility and hours to support a family that was growing trying to make a home life work but I couldn’t see that at the time. Looking back now I did ok but more on that later. Then the buggers released a best of with the B Sides in 1998 called “Lousy With Love” (just for you Dave). I found another B Side “Learn To Cry” buried away on the back of “Always The Last To Know” ready to strike me down once again..
“A familiar face with a loving smile greets you every day
And failure seeps a little deeper through your life
Yeah sure you gave some girl your heart, but you never used it anyway
Sayin’ boy, you better learn to cry
Boy, you’d better learn to cry”
That just kept topping me up so that by the time “Can You Do Me Good” was released in 2002 they were no longer just a band they were MY band that narrated my life through my thirties, into my forties and understood me like no one else. Obsession? Absolutely. “Can You Do Me Good” was clearly a parting shot from the band. There was no way back, they were over. No one to take their place, just that back catalogue which I would dip into when my self esteem looked like it might be on the up. Back in your box Dave.
Bloody hell I’m exhausted, well done if you’re still with me… So what happened next? I sort of got on with things. My boys were getting older and showing an interest in music mostly US skater rock Green Day etc or UK indie and for a while I went with it but still in the car on my own it was the Dels that kept me company.
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Then Myspace happened and Justin released some covers, were they coming back? I discovered blogging and a whole new world opened up where I could wallow further and share my misery. Oh happy day! I had the seed of an idea and wrote the script for a play using all these great songs to build the story around. Based on “Move Away Jimmy Blue” It was dour, bleak and semi autobiographical touching on many of the events of the previous 15 or so years. I found or tripped over The Word Blog trying to find someone who might be interested in it and it became another obsession for a while. This is when Dave Amitri was born. Just a throw away user name. The tribute band I could never be. I couldn’t possibly face the world as me but behind my mask of misery and my cape of regret I could be whatever I wanted to be and say whatever I wanted to say. Twitter, Facebook, The Word Blog became second homes to me. God I made some mistakes but Dave Amitri became my escape and I also discovered on the boards and the socials other Del Amitri fans like me. People of a certain age who too had been cocooned in Del Amitri’s web of melancholia. I wrote once when reviewing “Can You Do Me Good”
“Imagine a band from the 90’s who weren’t a boy band, weren’t Brit Pop, weren’t from Manchester, you couldn’t rave too and wrote songs, proper songs with lyrics that meant something. That band was Del Amitri. So uncool that they attracted a certain fan, a fan who didn’t fit anywhere else, a fan who was going through some personal drama and a fan who didn’t quite “get” the latest thing. “
It felt good but the real me was still boiling away in the pan of water getting ever closer to the edge. It finally overflowed in 2008 and took me with it. It was a tough time but was a personal turning point for me. I’d at least made a decision that something had to change. I got proper help. It will come as no surprise however that Currie’s solo career also played a part. 2007’s “What Is Love For” is an album of separation and sadness but also with a sense that it’s going to be ok. He knew again.
“If I ever loved you how come I feel alright? How come the nights are so easy and the mornings look so bright?”
My introspection has gone on far too long, sorry but I have one more story to share before concluding. Fast forward to 2012 and I’m now seperated after 23 years and alone but looking forward. Currie is playing live and I’ve got the momentum to do something serious with the script for “Jimmy Blue”. I take a colleague from work to see Currie and that colleague over time becomes more. A production company from Manchester wants to put on “Jimmy Blue” and Justin Currie offers help for a Kickstarter project to fund it in 2013. Yes Dave! Well unfortunately I wasn’t ready to expose the real me and my bottle went knowing the script wasn’t really worthy of the songs I pulled out and that was that. Dave Amitri would have pulled it off but not the real me. It’s never really surfaced again.
So here we are 3 days before another Del Amitri album is released. My family are all doing ok, we’ve sort of found a way. The colleague from the gig became my partner, we’re still together and I’m happy. Dave Amitri is still my only social media presence. I still like to hide behind him. More people “know” him than know real world me and that suits me just fine. None of my family except my partner even know he exists. I can write as him without fear of anyone judging me. It’s a hobby I love and having here to share it is doubly rewarding. It gives me a freedom. There’s no way I could do the things I do as Dave Amitri as me. As for Del Amitri I still care for those songs but it’s very rare I feel able to listen to them. I’ve ordered tickets for the live shows and a vinyl copy of the album. How do I feel about “Fatal Mistakes”? I’m really not sure. If Currie and Co really do have insight into my soul then the album will be wiser, a bit battered round the edges but with a new purpose and real joy at what the future might bring. If it is expect a review soon. If it’s not, if it’s more of the same I might not listen more than once. Like any addiction just one sample could bring a relapse. Perhaps then I’ll put it in the loft like a vinyl “Picture of Dorian Gray” to decay in sorrow. Perhaps it’s time I put Dave Amitri up there too and face the world as a happy, confident, relaxed Dave Ross and finally kiss this thing goodbye…
Jingsabloodyroonie!! Here’s me, cynical old me “Don’t listen to much these days, all been said before” and then you write this. Never knowingly listened to Del Amitri – that will change pronto.
Absolutely, profoundly, admirably unrivalled bravery there, Dave.
Terrific account of how music can be a support, a haven, an inspiration, a mirror of one’s own strengths and shortcomings. As you may recall, I share your deep appreciation of the Dels, and I too am looking forward to my long-awaited pre-ordered copy of the new album.
Long may you share your new purpose and real joy with us here at HMS Afterword. Sail on, my friend!
Waking Hours came out at the end of my fresher year at university, and the Spit In The Rain non-album single during my final year. I’ve seen every tour, always with different friends, and it makes me think of them all.
I later got to know some of the band through Eileen Rose. I wouldn’t say we’re close friends, but enough to spend the time between soundcheck and gig in their company.
I know what you mean, the band that really got under my skin was The Bible.
Of course, the main songwriter in The Bible went on to do this, one of many which might appeal to fans of the Dels. From the live album wot I produced.
Boo Hewerdine – Murder In The Dark:
Lovely stuff Dave. It’s always been clear how much this band mean you and you’ve expressed it beautifully. I’m equally overjoyed by the prospect of the new album, doubly so because two of my all-time favourite bands are releasing new stuff within a week of each other, one for the first time in 19 years and the other in eleven. Del Amitri and Crowded House! 90’s me is dancing in delight.
I actually know where I was the first time I heard Kiss This Thing Goodbye. At the junction of Green St and Victoria Drive, Eastbourne, turning right, on a Saturday evening. They were live Radio 2 I think. Anyway, every time I’ve passed the spot in the 30 years since I’ve thought to myself, this is where I first heard Kiss This Thing Goodbye. After that it was a decade of devotion.
Like Neil Finn, Justin Currie has the knack of writing song that reward you with repeat listens. Currie has the advantage of also being a superb lyricist. Too many to choose from; What I Think She Sees, Driving With the Brakes On… and he’s the best middle eight man in the business as well. They were one of those bands where the B-sides were better than some of the album tracks. Imagine Sleep Instead of Teardrops not making it onto Some Other Suckers Parade.
They were never cool, that was the thing. Deliberately dodging the zeitgeist doesn’t sell you records or endear you to your label. Moustaches and sideboards and -ugh- denim didn’t fit the template either. But for a few of us of a certain age they were just right. Great albums and great shows. Sometimes it’s more glorious in retrospect to have been almost huge and missed the goal, than to actually break all the way through. Not that it feels like that at the time, I suspect.
Great post.
I have to confess Del Amitri passed me by at the time. I did order Fatal Mistakes many months ago. Apparently, I’m getting a ‘signed’ copy. I did so partly because of your enthusiasm but also because I’m fascinated by the mature artist whose hay day was decades ago. I suspect I may be looking forward to it a bit more confidently than you.
Great band: loved the misery oozing between the pores, yet astonished, if delightedly, that a song like Nothing Ever happens could ever sneak into the charts, almost especially after seeing them on TOTP. Have dipped in: I have the debut, the a sides collection and the b sides collection and a couple of the even more wracked solo Justin releases. Seen them the once, support to the Stones in Sheffield, towards the end of the last century, and they were solidly terrific. This post has tipped me into, after all, getting tix for the live forthcoming, even tho’ I normally promise myself, these days, to miss work day nights.
Powerful stuff. One of the most articulate and moving things I’ve ever read here. Thanks for sharing that very personal story here. For all the superficial stuff that we enjoy here, it also serves a more serious purpose or perhaps provides a service and safe space to air things secure in the knowledge that nobody in our real lives is likely to stumble onto the site by accident.
Thanks for that. Of course Justin will always be best known as Momus’s cousin in my musical universe. Now I’m forever grateful that I have never identified any parallels between his songs and my life.
When they first emerged they seemed wilfully unfashionable – much as Dire Straits did in 1978. In a sense they were slightly ahead of their time as well as behind it – their sound was much more at home as the nineties wore on.
I wouldn’t say I was a fan, but Justin has a hell of a voice and seems like a ruddy good cove.
Great piece Dave.
What a terrific post Dave…real life, in all it’s bewildering, ecstatic, heartbreaking glory.
My Del Amitri was the first album, with it’s jangly, Postcardesque sound, and so the later stuff passed me by somewhat, but your being hooked by the band is such a touching tale that it makes me think I might have a listen.
Excellent post, thank you.
I recall hearing them first on a Peel session I think, in their early, jangly indie days. At that time, I liked that sort of thing. I’d bracket their first album with the likes of The Railway Children or EBTG circa Love Not Money, and I bought it and loved it at the time. I drifted off a bit after that.
“Nothing Ever Happens” strikes me as one of those rare hits that shows what the nation’s really thinking, at 3am, underneath the covers, like, say, “Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now”, Town Called Malice” (or even “Rotterdam” by The Beautiful South?). It doesn’t have to be the cool kids that manage that.
It’s interesting that there’s a parallel drawn above with Crowded House – I agree and love them too, also the more mature version of Teenage Fanclub (I’d say after “Songs From…”)
Glad you’re in a better place now(?) and your piece resonates a bit with me… middle age, huh?
Great exposition of how a band/artist transcends and becomes YOUR band, not in a possessive sense, more symbiotic, with that sense that the communication is directly with you. I would never claim quite such a close relationship as you felt, Dave, but even so, a significant number of weekend drives home in the early 90s were soundtracked by a chorus of ‘I’ve had enough bad news to last a lifetime.’
Beautifully written Dave. I first came across the boys on The Word (I think) playing Nothing Ever Happens in a railway carriage. They have been the soundtrack of my life ever since. Cannot wait for the new album and am going to see them again in London. I’m dragging along a friend who is ripe for conversion…
“It’s a hobby” – and quite a proficient one methinks.
Here’s another “why can’t I write like that” post – thanks for sharing.
Music – bloody hell. When one is at a low point (or being slowly boiled like that frog) there are songs or bands that seem to be written with your own psyche in mind.
Of course they weren’t written for “you”, but it gets you through.
Dave, what an amazing blog.
I discovered Del Amitri in 1990 via Nothing Ever Happens. Bought all the albums and saw them live on 5 occasions including the reunion tours.
I have ordered the new album and looking forward to seeing them live again.
They are Here and Now (may favourite track).
Now here’s a funny thing; in another time and another place some 30 years ago……I was completely smitten by someone I had met through work, and whose journey to and from the workplace I would often share. It was complicated; she was with someone else but unhappy, and although guarded about her private life the unhappiness shone through. I was besotted, but unwilling to complicate matters by giving too much away. Our homeward journeys would reach a point where we went our separate ways. That daily parting was always difficult, and I would think about her afterwards for hours on end. There was a song that played over and over again in my head, and which I cannot listen to now without bringing back the bittersweet emotions of that time in my life.
Well the bus is pulling out
And I guess I’d better go
Before I make a grave mistake and let my feelings show…..
Yes, @Dave-Amitri, music can be a powerful, evocative and supportive force in our lives. As others have said, Justin Currie had the knack of writing lyrics that captured the very essence of everyday situations, and Be My Downfall was one of several of his songs that did it for me. Del Amitri were a very decent band, but I haven’t listened to them for a long time. Perhaps I should put that right.
By the way, after 10 years or so and after upheaval in both our lives, she and I did finally get together for a brief while, but the moment had passed and it didn’t last for long. We are still good friends.
The thing about Del Amitri at the time was that they looked like bin men. Really, and those lamb chops didn’t help either. Don’t get me started on the denim. I’m glad though Dave, that you get so much from them. It’s why we all love music afterwords.
Terrific stuff Dave.
A friend at work, who shared a love of the same stuff (Crowded House, Squeeze), banged on about DA and, after initially dismissing them as music for divorced alcoholics (he was both) I had an epiphany listening to Twisted. I can really recommend Justin Currie’s interview with the Sodajerker podcast where he talks about his songwriting process. And I’m unable to post it here, but the Songwriters Circle show where he plays If I Ever Loved You, and reduces Chris Difford to tears, slays me every time.
It’s brilliant. ‘Music for divorced alcoholics’ is also a brilliant description, though they would be watching this one through a gauze of tears, desperately trying to convince themselves that they were OK, but the rest of us can join in too.
The third man in that Songwriters Circle show was Boo Hewerdine, and Chris Difford had a little cry at one of his, too.
Only ever heard their singles on the radio, but it’s writing like this that captures everything that’s so good about this little corner of the internet – thanks Dave.
Thank you for all your lovely comments. Really appreciated. I’ve decided to answer each one with an appropriate (or not) Del Amitri song…. Maybe not all at once.
That is one of the best posts I have read on this site Mr Amitri – imbued with open honesty. Isn’t it astonishing just how much music touches us? Your Del Amitri is my John Martyn – an enduring, often difficult love affair.
The Del’s, although very good, were really never my thing but in my band days we used to play Always The Last to Know – one of the few songs I could play without thinking. I’d get completely ‘lost’ in it – I can feel the hairs on my arm raising now on the sweaty stage at Dicey Rileys!!
Tell Her This by Del Amitri is a wonderful song, and it works as evidence that some songs really get you at certain times of your life. They’ve done some great songs, although one of their biggest hits, Roll to Me (wasn’t it top 10 in the US?) leaves me cold.
They also recorded one of the great football songs!
A lovely piece, Dave, and a great example of why I recommend this site to people.
Wonderful post Dave, wish we had more like this, about how music is entwined in our lives. I’m sure my version wouldn’t be anything like as engaging. I was playing Twang Jr, metal head, the Dels the other day and thankfully his good upbringing held out and he declared “Some other sucker’s parade” to be “cool” which is praise indeed. Lovely to have you back. Even if you do like that 80s shit. 😉
Bloody brilliant, Dave. It sums up my feelings about the band perfectly. A truly wonderful piece of writing.
It’s here. I’m almost afraid to give it a spin. In fact, I’m going to wait until I have an uninterrupted hour in which to take my first listen. Signed copy too! And what is more, no smudged Sharpie felt tip across the cover, just nice, neat signatures on the front of the booklet insert. Top work fellas!
Just back from a long run in the sun with “Into the Mirror” as the soundtrack. Fatal Mistakes will be on when I’m cooking the dinner later on.
Great OP which resonates in many ways. At the start of the 90’s I was in a new relationship expecting my first child and struggling big time financially – the joys of negative equity! Music purchases were hard to justify but I can remember getting Waking Hours and Change Everything and as such relatively rare purchases at the time playing them to death on my Walkman as I travelled around London.
The Sunday Times review begins “I never liked Del Amitri much” then raves.
Dave, the pressure is on. Get through those first six listens, gather your thoughts, take a deep breath and post that review!