Justin Currie is in the midst of a somewhat common predicament for the 
		former front men of popular bands.  Is it possible to create intriguing, 
		challenging music without riding the coattails of the old band or 
		recreating the old sound?  Also, as an older, more mature artist on a 
		much smaller label, can you get your music out to the people even if it 
		is just as good as or better than your earlier work?
		
		The Glasgow, Scotland born Currie is currently heading into his third 
		decade of music making and his second solo album The Great War is 
		receiving critical response off the charts.  However, being on a smaller 
		label and not having the publicity budget has been making this fine work 
		fall through the cracks. 
		
		However, Currie is used to having his music somewhat taken for granted.  
		Growing up in a vibrant Glasgow rock scene of the 80s, Currie’s band Del 
		Amitri had several huge hits in the late 80s and early 90s – including 
		three top 40 hits in the US. 
		
		Yet Currie’s solo work has been receiving critical accolades that dwarf 
		even the well-respected work of his old band.  For example, legendary 
		pop singer/songwriter Chris Difford of the classic post-punk band 
		Squeeze referred to Currie’s first solo CD What is Love For? as 
		“sublime.” 
		“It was fantastic.  It’s the ultimate compliment.  I wasn’t even aware 
		that he said that until the press people in the record company decided 
		to use that quote.  I didn’t even know he said it,” Currie laughs.  “I 
		was very pleasantly surprised.” 
		
		It’s a nice place to be, getting the respect of your peers and idols.  
		However, when they were starting out, Currie and his band Del Amitri 
		seemed to be a bit of a pariah on the local music scene.  Founded in the 
		early 1980s by Currie and schoolmate Ian Harvie, Del Amitri started 
		gigging in their native Scotland; however the band did not get the 
		immediate respect that they might have hoped for. 
		
		“In the time that we come from Glasgow, in the 80s it became super cool 
		because of Postcard [a Glasgow label] and Orange Juice [a band which 
		featured Edwyn Collins, who later had a 90s solo hit with “A Girl Like 
		You”] and things,” Currie recalls.  “It became super cool for good 
		reasons.  Postcard was a very cool label.  Orange Juice were kind of 
		revolutionary in terms of even though they came out of punk, they were 
		kind of the antithesis of punk musically.  If punk was a rebellion, they 
		rebelled against their own rebellion. 
		
		
		
“After that came a whole clutch of wannabe superstars from Glasgow.  
		Young, handsome guys who just wanted to get off with girls.  Made all 
		the right moves but were kind of empty headed idiots, really.  But they 
		were cool, and we were really uncool, because we were still fiddling 
		away at this kind of post-punk.  We were pretty much universally reviled 
		by everybody.  Hardly anybody came to see our gigs, except for our close 
		friends.  I mean, we were really hated.  We were flacked off in the 
		press.  We were just seen as this irritant.  So, we played our own 
		furrow outside of the mainstream Glasgow music scene.” 
		
		Things changed in 1989, when the band’s single “Kiss This Thing Goodbye” 
		took off to become an international hit.  That was followed by several 
		UK singles and in 1992 “Always the Last to Know” returned the band to 
		the US Top 40 for a second time. 
		
		“When we suddenly got on the TV in about 1989-1990, it just felt like a 
		vindication,” Currie admits.  “It felt like very sweet revenge against 
		all those people that had written us off.  For that reason, we just 
		thought, let’s enjoy this.  Let’s enjoy watching these jealous little 
		Glasgow cool guys rip their hair out, because we are on Top of the 
		Pops and they’re not.  That helped us attune to it.  The whole thing 
		was kind of a joke, really.  Also, the other thing is we were never so 
		big that it became a problem.  We’d obviously get recognized in Scotland 
		but it wasn’t a problem.  You’d just kind of say hi to people, or if 
		they called you a wanker you’d just tell them to fuck off.” 
		
		As big as those singles were, in 1995 Del Amitri’s single “Roll to Me” – 
		which had been written by Currie – exploded, becoming by far the 
		band’s largest US hit.  Yet, while it is a great song, it may have been 
		a little bit unrepresentative of the band’s sound.  Because the tune was 
		so pure pop, even though the song was a huge hit, it seemed like the 
		band was never quite taken as seriously from that point on. 
		
		Currie acknowledges that point, yet he does not seem at all distraught 
		by the turn of events. 
		
		“Well, I would never, ever prevent something being a hit.  I mean, ‘Roll 
		to Me’ bought my house,” Currie laughs, “so lately I’m very grateful to 
		it.” 
		
		
Still, Currie does acknowledge that the song was a late addition to the 
		band’s album Twisted and its inclusion on the album did cause 
		some slight strife amongst band mates. 
		
		“If you put something on an album that you cannot ever worry about what 
		happens to it when it taken outside of the album,” Currie continues.  
		“It’s the musician’s responsibility to decide at that point we should 
		not release this song because it’s unrepresentative.  The reason we put 
		that song on Twisted was because Twisted desperately 
		needed a moment of lightness at that point.  Believe it or not, we were 
		heavily influenced on Twisted by Nirvana and the heavier Neil 
		Young live records that were coming out at that point.  But our natural 
		instincts are pop, so we ended up making this heavy rock record leavened 
		by bits of pop. 
		
		“‘Roll to Me’ was the only really pop thing we had on those sessions, so 
		we just stuck it on.  We actually needed it.  Unusually, I questioned 
		its inclusion and Ian – who was more like the rock guitar player of the 
		90s – said we definitely need to put it on there.  It harked back to our 
		early 80s period, acoustic guitars, lots of melody and counter-melody.  
		It’s where we started, actually.  So, in that sense, it didn’t feel 
		unrepresentative to us.  It was just unrepresentative of our rock 
		period.” 
		
		In fact, Currie smilingly suggests that “Roll to Me” was somewhat 
		inevitable, in the imaginary VH1 Behind the Music of Del Amitri, 
		the story could not have happened any other way. 
		
		“Those bio things are utterly hilarious,” Currie says.  “In every one of 
		these, these bands from the 70s, their big hit would always be some 
		throwaway piece of fluff.” 
		
		Also, despite being a huge success in the US, Del Amitri was known as a 
		more international band and the song did not do as well with their world 
		audiences.  For example, in the UK, it was merely the third single 
		released from the album and a moderate hit at best.  The American radio 
		smash status did not make Twisted sell any more than the band’s 
		previous albums.  Nor did it bring more people in to concerts. 
		
		In fact, Currie has come to the conclusion that while everybody really 
		knows the song, very few people really knew that the song is done 
		by Del Amitri.  It’s just this song that often got played on the radio – 
		and still does – but no one really thinks of it as Currie’s song, even 
		though he wrote it, sang it and played on it.  Therefore, despite the 
		fact that he often plays Del Amitri songs in concert, he rarely plays 
		that one. 
		
		“In that sense, I don’t have to play it,” Currie says.  “Nobody ever 
		shouts for it.  Nobody ever gets pissed off because I don’t do it, 
		because the people that come and see me now are the people that always 
		went to see Del Amitri.  [They] weren’t particularly interested in that 
		song.” 
		
		
Still, Del Amitri continued for two more albums over seven years after
		Twisted.  The 1998 album Some Other Sucker’s Parade was a 
		lost gem that even had a couple of minor hits, “Not Where It’s At” and 
		the title track.  However, it came out in the height of the nu-metal 
		phase and Del Amitri’s somewhat tuneful ditties were out of place with 
		the prevailing winds of music.  By the time their final album Can You 
		Do Me Good? came out in 2002, most of the band’s fan base had moved 
		on. 
		
		Once Currie finally made the hard decision to leave Del Amitri behind, 
		he realized he had to decide what place there was for him now in the 
		music world.  It took another five years to release his solo debut – 
		though Currie acknowledges it wasn’t completely a matter of a guy 
		tinkering around on a solo debut. 
		
		“I couldn’t get a record deal,” Currie says frankly.  “It took me two 
		and a half years to get a record deal.  That album was finished in 2004 
		or 2005.  At that point it was called Rebound.  I knew the kind 
		of label I wanted to release it, but because it deliberately sounded so 
		different than Del Amitri, all the labels that would have been 
		interested in a putting a Del Amitri record out, for example, like large 
		independent labels, just had to say, ‘Sorry, it’s not right.’  In other 
		cases, ‘Sorry, he’s too old,’ which is totally understandable.  I really 
		didn’t want to self-release that.   To me that’s like vanity 
		publishing.  I just wasn’t interested in that.  I wanted to find a group 
		of people that thought they could make money out of it, because that 
		usually is the only justification for making records if you are in the 
		commercial realm.  You’ve got to have some kind of potential to find an 
		audience.” 
		
		The label he finally ended up with was Rykodisc, a respected indie label 
		which has been a home for respected artists for decades – as well as 
		briefly holding the catalogue rights to David Bowie and Elvis Costello’s 
		work in the 1990s. 
		
		While Currie is glad to have found a home at Ryko, he admits that he is 
		not quite used to being on a smaller independent label after almost two 
		decades with the majors in his old band. 
		
		“It’s night and day compared to A&M [Del Amitri’s label],” Currie says.  
		“There was very little I could do on Ryko, while Del Amitri could pretty 
		much do anything they wanted to do within reason, because they had 
		budgets for it.  If the ideas were good enough then we could persuade 
		them to come up with the cash to do something.  You can’t do that on a 
		small label, because they don’t have the money.  They don’t have the 
		money until you start selling records and you won’t start selling 
		records until you start actually spending the money on promoting the 
		damned thing.  So it’s a bit of a catch-22 situation.  But, again, I get 
		completely to make the records I want to make, so that’s a good thing.” 
		
		
		
That good thing has allowed for Currie to subtly shift his musical 
		stance.  Currie’s pop sense as a songwriter is just as strong; however 
		the lyrics seem to be significantly darker.  It just seems natural to 
		Currie, a reflection of where he is as a human being now. 
		“The older you get, perhaps that kind of perspective comes to the fore,” 
		Currie says.  “Or maybe what you’re listening to is a bit more serious, 
		perhaps.  I’m not sure.  On What is Love For? I deliberately 
		excised anything that sounded like Del Amitri.  Anything that was kind 
		of bittersweet or lighter had to go.  I wanted to make a very serious 
		record that obviously wasn’t a desperate appeal to former Del Amitri 
		fans.  I just didn’t want to do that.  I thought it was one’s 
		responsibility if you were going to step out off the band’s collective 
		identity and do something individual.  It was important to do something 
		that was incredibly personal.  So the songs I selected for that record, 
		the songs I set about writing, were very exposed and personal.  I wanted 
		to be very open. 
		
		“I kind of modeled all that on the first John Lennon solo record, which 
		for me is the only Beatles solo record which actually works, because 
		it’s the anti-Beatles.  It’s not talking from their perspective.  Most 
		of the Beatles stuff was a bit of the ‘we,’ of the ‘us.’  You know, ‘All 
		You Need is Love.’  Most of the Beatles’ songs, really until some of the 
		songs on the White Album – which is actually a bunch of solo records – 
		were sung from a collective Beatles viewpoint.  Then Lennon obviously 
		made the leap, made the decision if you give me a solo record I have to 
		be laceratingly candid.  I don’t really like solo records.  Generally I 
		think you either start as a solo artist or you don’t.  If you’ve been in 
		a band and you go and make a solo album, it’s generally rubbish.  So 
		that was the model.” 
		
		However, with the new solo disk, The Great War, Currie loosened 
		the reins a bit.  He still was determined to show his true self in the 
		lyrics, but musically he was more willing to share the licks that made 
		his band so memorable. 
		
		“On this record, I didn’t want to make the same record again,” he 
		acknowledges, “so I allowed more Del Amitri sensibility musically to 
		slip back in.  I didn’t have so much of a problem with that this time.  
		But, yeah, the lyrics are still going to be songs that are not written 
		for a band, they are very much written for me.  So they still have that 
		personal perspective.” 
		
		Perhaps the most personal lyric – in fact, some critics have called it a 
		bit overly navel-gazing – was “The Fight to Be Human” which took a 
		rather scathing look at fame and his life.  Was it somewhat cathartic to 
		write such an introspective song? 
		
		
“It’s cathartic to sing it,” Currie admits.  “Yeah.  I mean ‘No 
		Surrender’ was a bit like that on the last record.  It’s good to have 
		something where you can just get a few things off your chest.  I can 
		understand why people would hear something like that and think it was 
		kind of self-indulgent.  I don’t have a problem with that, really.  I 
		used to be incredibly paranoid about being self-indulgent or being 
		pretentious.  I don’t really worry about that anymore, because you can’t 
		really get anywhere if you don’t allow yourself to make a fool of 
		yourself.  There are a few things on both the solo records where I just 
		felt, fuck it; I’ll just go for this.  If it doesn’t work, it doesn’t 
		work.” 
		
		One thing that is not working in most of the songs of The Great War
		is the love relationships which Currie is singing of.  Despite the 
		joyously happy in love vibe of “Roll to Me,” Currie’s songs have always 
		been a little darker romantically, a vibe which he continues.  It just 
		comes naturally to him, Currie acknowledges.  As a writer, he feels 
		happy relationships are simply less interesting than troubled ones. 
		
		“Most romantic comedies only end with the couple getting together,” 
		Currie says.  “What they work on is the frustration of them pretending 
		they don’t like each other or the obstacles in their path.  That’s what 
		makes them funny.  That’s what makes them drama.  If they met at the 
		beginning… and say for example started with the scene on the Empire 
		State Building, then it would be over.  I don’t think there’s a great 
		deal to get your hands on as a writer.  It takes great masters like Bob 
		Dylan “Love Minus Zero/No Limit,” or Paul McCartney “Here There and 
		Everywhere” – it takes a real talent which I certainly don’t possess, to 
		write about the beauty of loving somebody.  I find that impossible.  
		That’s not to say that I think that loving relationships aren’t one of 
		the greatest things about human existence.  It’s just I can’t really get 
		my hands on it to write about, you know?” 
		
		Of course the terms positive and negative can be so subjective.  Some of 
		the love stories Currie is telling may not necessarily seem to be 
		uplifting, but in their own ways they are. 
		
		“A lot of these songs I think of as being positive love songs.  ‘Can’t 
		Let Go of Her Now’ is a positive love song to the extent that you’ve got 
		a protagonist who sounds reticent, but in actual fact, he’s completely 
		in love with her.  That’s the objective of the song.  The only way I can 
		really approach romantic love from a positive viewpoint is coming from a 
		man-in-denial angle.  It gives me something to build on and to work a 
		lyric around.” 
		
		
While love songs are standard musical fare, much more uncommon are songs 
		written specifically to tweak the fans of sports teams, but The Great 
		War has that as well.  The cleverly titled “You’ll Always Walk 
		Alone” is an answer song to the famous show tune “You’ll Never Walk 
		Alone.”  That song is played at every home game for Currie’s favorite 
		football (soccer) team, Glasgow Celtic. 
		
		“I wrote a whole series of songs that were turning things on their head 
		– all of which are associated with the Protestant/Catholic divide in 
		Glasgow, which is centered around two football teams.  The football 
		teams sing different songs.  Celtic, the team that I support, sings 
		‘You’ll Never Walk Alone’ before every match.  I find it cloyingly 
		sentimental.  Also, the Raiders fans are all supporters of the loyalist 
		movement of Northern Ireland, so one of their phrases is ‘No Surrender’ 
		– which is short for ‘No Surrender to the IRA.’  So, I added a comma 
		after the ‘Surrender.’  I’ve done quite a few of these songs, because I 
		really enjoy annoying both camps.  That’s where ‘You’ll Always Walk 
		Alone’ came from, just to annoy Celtic fans.  Actually, without giving 
		the game away, the coda of the song actually contradicts the rest of the 
		song.  Even though it sounds like ‘you’re born alone, you’ll die alone,’ 
		the coda contradicts that.  There are a few songs on this record where I 
		sneak in a little punch line at the end which contradicts what the song 
		appears to be about.” 
		
		Some may say that a guy who writes songs to piss off sports fans may 
		have too much time on his hands.  In fact, Currie himself does, in the 
		wonderfully funny song “A Man with Nothing to Do.”  That, in fact, is 
		exactly how Currie sees himself. 
		
		“I am a man with nothing to do,” he admits.  “If I’m not on the 
		road, I’m just sitting around, staring at television and wondering where 
		the next song is going to come from, really.  Because I don’t want to go 
		and make a living doing something proper, I don’t do very much.” 
		
		However, some of the not much he has been doing has been with old 
		friends.  Del Amitri guitarist Mick Slaven played on The Great War,
		a reunion that Currie was happy about. 
		
		“It was fantastic working with him again,” Currie says.  “From my 
		perspective, he’s a complete genius of the electric guitar.  He always 
		comes out from what appears to be left field with his arrangements.  
		He’s much better arranging electric guitar than I am.  I’m pretty 
		rubbish at arranging things for the guitar.  I mean, I can do it, but 
		I’m never really that happy with the results.  So, I brought him in just 
		to help me with the arrangements and he played a whole lot of stuff.  A 
		whole lot of solos.  It was just an absolute pleasure.” 
		
		
Currie has also been working on a side project with Del Amitri 
		co-founder Ian Harvie, though at this point Currie has no idea if this 
		music will ever see the light of day.  Currie has been so busy with his 
		solo work that he hasn’t had the time to finish the project. 
		
		“We’ve written a whole bunch of things, a lot of which we are really 
		pleased with,” Currie says.  “But, we don’t really know who would listen 
		to it.  I mean, I listen to it and I really like it, but the people I’ve 
		played it to don’t get it at all.  That’s really kind of halted it in 
		terms of progression to us releasing it, because our manager doesn’t 
		like it, our friends don’t like it, Del Amitri fans don’t like it.  So 
		it’s hard to know what to do with it.  But we like it.”  
		
		In the meantime, Currie continues to tour and get his music out to as 
		many fans as he can.  And, yes, while he does now have two solo albums 
		worth of material to draw from, he is happy to pull out nuggets from his 
		old band’s songbook. 
		
		“I would always do Del Amitri songs,” Currie states.  “Without a doubt, 
		the best songs I’ll have ever written when I die will be from the Del 
		Amitri repertoire.  There are things I love doing.  There are 
		things sometimes that people request and I haven’t played in years.  I 
		really enjoy doing that.  Oh, that’s quite a good tune. 
		
		“Sometimes I find it a little odd at the age of 45 singing a song that I 
		wrote when I was 22.  But it doesn’t feel odd to sing it.  If I 
		intellectualize it, I step back from it while I’m singing it I think 
		that is really odd, I was singing a song I wrote a year ago alongside 
		something I wrote [back then].  I suppose essentially it was a 
		completely different person.   I totally understand people that want to 
		leave the past behind.  I take it as a great complement when somebody 
		comes up to me and says, ‘I don’t like Del Amitri, but I like what you 
		are doing now.’  That’s a lovely thing to hear, because at least you 
		feel you aren’t completely preaching to the converted and you’re not 
		just riding on the coattails of your past success.  But at the end of 
		the day, I never resent having had some success, because that’s what 
		allows me to keep doing it.”
		
	
	
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