Their shows hold none of the apathy that they sing about in Nothing Ever. This year, Del Amitri announced their live return to music, having been split up for ten years. The lyrics describe the apathy and futility of day to day life, lyrics which still ring true 25 years later. At the end of the 80s, Scottish band Del Amitri released their biggest UK hit, a song called Nothing Ever Happens.
But you got the message nonetheless. Nothing blatant and humiliating, he swears. If he didn’t fancy the cut of your jabbery, self-absorbed jib while serving you, he had a subtly insidious way of letting you know. Take, for example, when the Del Amitri frontman was padding his income a few years ago, working part-time as a bartender in his native Glasgow. And he does not suffer any less street-savvy fools gladly.
Del Amitri Songs Free Cocktails So
Del Amitri are pleased to announce the release of their seventh studio album, ‘Fatal Mistakes’, on May 28th via Cooking Vinyl. You had five jars of Guinness, gratis, during his shift last week? “Hey! You owe me a guitar part!” he reckons.Del Amitri Announce New Album ‘Fatal Mistakes’. They got drunk so quickly because I was giving ‘em so much booze that they just went home, which was great.” His other pint-pulling secret? “If you’re in a band and you’re selling cocktails, give all the other musicians free cocktails so that when you’re looking for musicians yourself, they’ll work for you,” he says. “So by the time they came back for their third one, they were basically unconscious — it was very satisfying.
But on this seventh group set, Currie still has a way with a chiming, ebullient hook coupled with a conversely morose lyrical outlook that could make a thirteen-step trip up to the gallows feel fairly festive “God doesn’t love you,” he promises in “Musicians and Beer,” and the horizon just grows darker, in “Lonely,” “I’m So Scared of Dying,” “Losing the Will to Die,” and the climate-change-metaphorical “All Hail Blind Love.” Is there a lot happening just beneath the serene surface of his sing-along songs? “Well, hopefully,” he replies cagily. An early single set the misanthropic stage — “Close Your Eyes and Think of England,” a solemn piano dirge set in a Dystopian post-Brexit Britain whose title (a female reference to unwanted sexual advances) works as a wicked double entendre. And he sounds stronger and more R&B-assured than ever on Fatal Mistakes, which the bassist recorded in March of 2019, pre-lockdown, in a concise three-week session with longtime Del Amitri guitarist Ian Harvie. Of course, a good deal of his perpetual appeal is his truly timeless, whiskey-seasoned warble, easily one of the best — and most instantly recognizable —voices in modern rock.
So I’ve kinda been taunting them because I rock into the room at 2:00 in the afternoon, and the place is a fucking mess. And opposite my living room, there’s a building that’s just all offices. But it’s been a couple of years now, and I’ve still not replaced the blinds in my living room.
And there’s a guy who works opposite me, and he comes into his office every day around 7:00 in the morning, and he leaves at 7:00 at night. But I don’t want to seriously taunt them. But I might have if I’ve had too much to drink. So they must really resent us, and I find that, too, immensely satisfying.IE: Have you waved to them? Written messages on placards?JC: I hope I haven’t. They can look right into the room and see what absolute scumbags we are and that we don’t actually have a normal job.
She’s been living here for seven years. What a shit life that is.”IE: When you say ‘we,’ who else is sheltering in place with you, as it were.JC: My girlfriend, Emma. And I actually feel really sorry for him, and I think, “You poor guy.
Or normal for us, at least — we’re actually getting enough sleep.IE: If Outlander has taught us anything, it’s that there’s a whole spiritual side to Scottish culture. So I said, “Thank God!” And now we’re living a reasonably normal life. But for the last couple of months, she’s left that.
Or at least they do in my case, anyway.IE: Have you ever seen anything that movies can’t explain away?JC: No, but there’s a phenomenon called a Brocken ghost, and it happens when you’re walking. So it’s quite interesting to imagine, like, “There must have been Vikings walking down this glen at one point, slaughtering people!” Those images do come to mind when you’re walking around the countryside in Scotland, but they come more from movies than they do from history books. But sometimes I go walking with people who know about that stuff, and it’s quite interesting because the landscape — once you get into the highlands — just hasn’t changed it’s been the same for millennia. So when I’m in ancient parts of Scotland, I don’t know enough to conjure up in my imagination a these clans or this or that massacre.
But I usually go — well, not every week, but I’m usually in a pub on a Friday night at about 6 PM with a bunch of people, so I started really missing that. And the older we get, the less we go out. And I’d like to see that, but it’s supposed to be terrifying.IE: How did you adapt to pandemic lockdown?JC: Well, I’ve not been on stage since September 2019, and that was just to play with a friend’s pub band. I know people that have seen it, and eventually, they sort of calm down and realize that they’ve seen a Brocken ghost — this weird phenomenon that has to do with water droplets in the air. And apparently, it’s horrifying when it suddenly happens. So it’s actually you, but it looks like a giant, a giant walking towards you.
I miss just bumping into people that you don’t know that well, and I miss being able to talk across a bar to people and to even talk to a group of people in person. So when the pubs finally reopen, I’m gonna go because I do really miss that. So actually, I was in the pub exactly four times last year.
But all that stuff’s just cut off from you during COVID, and that’s quite distressing. What I really like is just to sit next to somebody in a pub on a Sunday night, and he’s ten years retired and used to work in the shipyards, and he’ll tell you about old Glasgow and all these things that you don’t know. You never know who you’ll meet.JC: Yeah.
So it’s really the bars and the clubs and the people on the streets that just make it a really entertaining place to live. It’s just a desert, and it’s really ugly, and there are people just trolling around with nothing to do, looking really miserable. To take the people out of it, it’s just awful. But somewhere like Glasgow, which is not a pretty town.
And it took me about five or six months to write something that wasn’t about the lockdown, and I hope I’ve gotten out of that stage now. So nobody’s got anything original to say. And I just thought that everybody’s gonna be writing the same song because everybody’s gonna be living the same life.
And I’m 56, so you really miss that — you miss that adrenaline thing. I realized within a couple of months of lockdown that by April, maybe May, it was the longest I’d ever spent not being on a stage since I was 15. So it’s a bit like working in an office, without the possibility that there might be a gig at the end of it, which is really frustrating. Because the album was finished and we spent quite a long time mixing it, I had to mix it remotely, the rest of the time has been spent just setting up the album, and it’s just been happening. But mainly, I’ve just been doing emails and Zoom.
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