| Pitchfork |
There was a certain sense of justice when Edwyn Collins finally landed a surprise pop hit in the mid-1990s with "A Girl Like You", considering the former Orange Juice singer was one of the first children of punk to prominently embrace pop. But there was an even greater sense of injustice when, in 2005, Collins suffered a series of strokes and brain hemorrhages that sent him to the hospital for half a year and left him unable to read, write, walk, or talk.Yet as befits a man tenacious enough to thrive largely in the margins for so many years, Collins resisted the urge to retire and instead began a rigorous regimen of physical rehabilitation. Struggling with wheelchairs and dysphasia, Collins was nonetheless able to complete 2007's Home Again, the album he began before his setbacks. Even more remarkable, he made a confident return to the stage, albeit in limited form. Still, it's a small miracle that Collins created Losing Sleep, his first new album since starting his recovery. The title refers to Collins' restless nights kept awake by his creative impulses-- "I'm losing sleep, I'm losing dignity," he sings-- but despite the consciously autobiographical bent of many of the tracks, Collins is not out for sympathy. The album, with its ever-thrilling underpinning of northern soul and cool post-punk grooves, is no mere comeback. It's a victory lap, capping off all Collins had to go through to get this point. Admittedly, Collins remains unable to play the guitar, and beyond that his distinctive voice honestly isn't quite what it once was. But, hey, the man's 51, and abetted by a fine team of friends and collaborators, damned if his knack for melody hasn't remained intact. For that matter, said friends and collaborators do an ace job bringing Collins' inner vision to life. Ryan Jarman of the Cribs helps give "What Is My Role?" an agitated edge that finds Collins (not surprisingly) wondering aloud about his current place in the world. "Do It Again" was recorded with Franz Ferdinand's Alex Kapranos and Nick McCarthy, but were their names omitted (and their backing vocals dropped) we'd be none the wiser as to their input. The same goes for the soaringly romantic "In Your Eyes", which teams Collins with the Drums-- and recalls early New Order at their warmest and most approachable....full text |
| Bbc |
| It's impossible to judge Edwyn Collins’ first album of new material since the stroke he suffered in 2005 (2007’s Home Again comprised songs written, if not recorded, beforehand) separately from his near-death experience, not least because some of the lyrics address what happened. But it is emphatically not a great album just because of the fact of his survival. Whatever the criteria, Losing Sleep would measure up. It doesn’t sound like the work of a man who still needs to walk with a stick and can barely cross the road alone. Collins does have support – from Franz Ferdinand, The Drums, Johnny Marr and The Cribs, all of whom owe him and seminal janglers Orange Juice a debt – but it’s more adornment than crutch. These 12 tracks have an irrepressible energy that is all Collins’ own, reflecting his twin loves of punk and northern soul; while his lyrics, always wryly self-regarding, have an urgency and bluntness that would make them seem inconsequential were there not so much at stake. There’s little prevaricating here. The title-track, and album opener, finds him losing not just sleep but dignity in his damaged state, insecure about his life and work, achieving Brian Wilson-esque levels of naive candour. Over the Hill is a typically Edwyn double-bluff title that evokes his "reckless youth" and contemplates a future when he’ll be older and wiser, having learned nothing from his "world of darkness". I Still Believe in You, with its echoes of Iggy’s Lust for Life, starts with a joke ("When I’m alone, I miss you / Back at my house, I don’t") before movingly encapsulating the two constants in his life: dread, and his wife Grace. And yet Collins was always more multifaceted than the boyishly fey and ironically forlorn character who created the space for Morrissey to exist. His words are as complex as ever. As he sings over a driving motorik beat on In Your Eyes, "The point I’m trying to make is, I’m changing my mind / The politics of life are obscure". The final two tracks, All My Days and Searching for the Truth, are ballads that present him as a heart-on-sleeve troubadour, but it would be too convenient to conclude that he has found the answer in simple soul-searching. If anything, What Is My Role? is more representative of the 51-year-old Collins as, over a buzzing Magazine-ish riff, he wonders where he fits in the scheme of things. The answer is he doesn’t, which is precisely why he’s still of value....full text |
| Guardian |
| Since the 2005 double brain haemorrhage that left him in a wheelchair, unable to talk, Edwyn Collins has made a remarkable recovery. He's produced new band Frankie & the Heartstrings and managed a highly creditable seventh solo album, albeit with help from friends/guests including Johnny Marr, Alex Kapranos and Roddy Frame. His ordeal is reflected in absorbing lyrics full of references to loss of dignity and self-doubt, particularly on the Ryan Jarman co-write What Is My Role? These are songs of determination and devotion. Collaborating with the Drums, the plea of In Your Eyes – "If you see me down, walk away," presumably to wife Grace Maxwell, who nursed him back to health – is simply heartbreaking. The ex-Orange Juice man's guitar-playing faculties remain impaired, but Losing Sleep and Searching For the Truth are terrific tunes. The rest are occasionally workmanlike but highly amenable pop constructions with Motown backbeats, each quietly celebrating the miracle that Collins is making music....full text |
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There was a certain sense of justice when Edwyn Collins finally landed a surprise pop hit in the mid-1990s with "A Girl Like You", considering the former Orange Juice singer was one of the first children of punk to prominently embrace pop. But there was an even greater sense of injustice when, in 2005, Collins suffered a series of strokes and brain hemorrhages that sent him to the hospital for half a year and left him unable to read, write, walk, or talk.