I’ve said it before, but Del Amitri are one of the most underrated bands of their time. Waking Hours (1989) doesn’t make the list of albums that Dave Masters takes with him to his new life as Tom Mulvaney, but it is one that he discovers fairly early in that new life, and one which has a huge impact on the storyline of Dead Man Singing.

I describe a Dels concert in the book, even though at the time I was writing I had never seen them live. YouTube videos from the right period helped, as did contemporary reviews. Bizarrely, I discovered that the particular show I had decided to include was one where none other than Vic Reeves, then a rising star of the comedy scene, joined them for the encore. I decided it was too weird a detail to include – the reader would have been left asking why it was there – so I omitted it (sorry Vic!).

Back to the album. Kiss This Thing Goodbye kicks everything off, shuffling melodically with one foot deep in the heart of Americana. As an introduction to the band’s new style (it was their second album, although the most fans regard it as their ‘proper’ debut) it’s not a bad summary, particularly when followed by the rockier groove of Opposite View.

Del Amitri always seem at their happiest when reflecting on misery, or with the prospect of bitter-sweet happiness snatched from its grip – Stone Cold Sober a particularly fine example of that. Another strand on Waking Hours is the idea of life stagnating, as explored in Move Away Jimmy Blue and their breakthrough hit Nothing Ever Happens, which makes their music a good fit for Dave when we meet him at the start of the book.

One song missing from the album but contemporary to it was the single-only release Spit in the Rain, not only another example of their melancholic everything-going-to-shit tendencies, but also a song with a prominent role to play in Dead Man Singing. I genuinely felt guilty when I realised that at least two characters in the book would never be able to enjoy listening to Del Amitri again. For the rest of us, there’s a fine catalogue of songs, with follow up album Change Everything (1992) just as good and just as worthy of repeated listening, even if it came along too late for inclusion in Dead Man Singing.

Del Amitri are built on sure foundations. Great musicianship and well-constructed music with the capacity to be joyous, even when ploughing the fields of melancholy (When I Want You is a prime example). Justin Currie’s soulful pop-rock vocals, married to his eloquent and honest lyrics, blend perfectly with Iain Harvie’s musicianship at the eye of the storm. Despite failing to record two albums with the same line up in their initial twenty-year lifespan, and then taking a ten-year hiatus in the noughties, they always seemed like a band that was built to last.  

A couple of reunion tours in 2014 and 2018 were followed by a new - and very good - album Fatal Mistakes in 2021, but then in 2024 Justin Currie went public with the news that he had been diagnosed with Parkinson’s Disease. I heard an interview with him where he observed that he had assumed that he would be performing for the rest of his life – he imagined himself as one of those old blokes still belting away in the local pub into his 80s. Sadly, his condition means that one day that future will be taken away from him, but in the meantime the band seem to have thrown themselves into making the most of the time that remains for him as a performer. I saw them in concert – for the first time – last year, and they are still a fantastic live act, with a huge repertoire of excellent songs and the musical chops to back them up. If you get the chance to see them, take it while you still can.