Edwyn Collins - LosingSleep

Wed 24th Nov, 2010 in Music Reviews

Some of the most poignant creations are directly influenced by tragedy for Edwyn Collins it was a near-death experience. The seventh solo album from the 51-year-old Scotsman, formerly of post-punk cult heroes Orange Juice, sees him at his most vibrant and melodic, truly living in the moment. It is clear that Collins will never again take anything for granted after the events that transpired just five years ago.

In the space of five days in early 2005, Edwyn Collins suffered two strokes, and required a small piece of his skull to be removed in order for neurosurgeons to operate on him. During the operation he contracted the 'superbug' MRSA, and spent a further six months in hospital, not being able to speak, read, write, walk or move the right side of his body. By late 2007, he was performing on stage at Camden Dingwalls.

Edwyn's incredible journey from 2005 to today has culminated in the recording and release of Losing Sleep, a record which serves as much as a life-affirming celebration as a wake up call to place things in perspective. With the spacious Northern soul drums, 'ooh-ooh' harmonies and twinkling vibraphones of the opening title track, the music itself is wholly British. The sound of the track paints a vivid picture of early 80s life in satellite towns in Northern England, similar to The Jam's 1982 classic Town Called Malice. The AM radio vocals, staccato brass blasts and jangly guitar lines are pure pop, easily matching any of Orange Juice's output in terms of melodic quality. Collins opens the record with the lines 'I'm losing sleep, I'm losing dignity/Everything I own is right in front of me/And it's getting me down', before continuing with 'I'm holding on, I'm insecure/About my life, about my work/But now I know the things I hold/Are the things I miss about my life'. These words encapsulate the spirit of the record, which is tied inextricably with the Northern soul movement.

What Is My Role?, co-written by Ryan Jarman of The Cribs follows, with Collins questioning 'Sometimes I'm up, sometimes I'm down/Sometimes I wonder, what is my role?'. There is a strong sense of existentialism within his confusion, as he boldly approaches a subject that is something of an 'elephant in the living room' amongst modern pop musicians. The Franz Ferdinand combination of Alex Kapranos and Nick McCarthy lend a hand on Do It Again, another up-tempo minor key pop number. Collins croons 'So many thoughts, so many goals/So many dreams, so many roads', and this is a sound of a man who is grateful for the opportunities he has been allowed, yet overwhelmed by the sheer amount of possibilities available to him. In what is surely a dedication to his supportive partner Grace Maxwell, Humble sees barroom blues piano and simple guitar lines provide a backdrop for a thankful and affectionate Collins to deliver the lines 'I can see it in the way you walk/So fine, so fine/I can see it in the way you smile/Divine, divine'.

Johnny Marr joins Collins on Come Tomorrow, Come Today, which unsurprisingly recalls The Smiths in spades. Collins even (perhaps unconsciously) lapses into a Morrissey-esque baritone at times during the track. While stylistically simple, the carpe-diem attitude of the track nonetheless proves quite inspirational. The aptly titled Bored is perhaps the weakest moment on the record, with Collins sounding somewhat disinterested whilst singing 'I'm bored, so bored'. The following track, In Your Eyes, is one of the highlights of the record. Co-written by The Drums, Jonathan Pierce duets with Collins, with a soul backbeat and signature single-note guitar lines from Adam Kessler and Jacob Graham providing a bedrock for some excellent vocal interplay. The spiky guitar groove of I Still Believe In You is another Ryan Jarman collaboration, and another of the record's high points. The subtle synth lines and strummed acoustic guitars make for a deceptively intricate and haunting track.

Over The Hill recalls blue-eyed soul and alt-country in equal parts, with Collins expressing a sense of resignation – 'Some day, out there, when I'm older/When I'm wiser, when I'm over the hill', while he once again searches for a sense of identity on It Dawns On Me. Somewhat underwhelming is the closing pair All My Days and Searching for the Truth, which remain decidedly mellow and never reach any great heights.

At the end of the day, Losing Sleep is a solid and consistent record, with the more up-tempo tracks at the beginning and the reflective and mellow tracks at the end – a pattern perhaps indicative of the feelings he experienced after recovering from a near-death experience, with the initial bliss and relief at making it out alive being followed by the stark realisation of the vulnerability and precariousness of existence. Losing Sleep ultimately serves as both a suggestion that we must never take our loved ones for granted, as they can slip away in the blink of an eye, but also an uplifting and life-affirming ode to living firmly in the present and embracing the things that are right in front of us.