Edwyn Collins: The possibilities actually are endless.

Still Juiced

For Edwyn Collins, the struggle was not so much when the band broke up, but later when his body broke down.

A scan through Edwyn Collins’ musical history splits it pretty much into three parts. In the 1980s, it was as leader of Orange Juice - a band that just about defined the influential Scottish indie music of the time. A ‘90s solo career was centred by A Girl Like You, one of those songs everyone seems to know enough to regularly defile at karaoke evenings. Part three is more problematic, but inspiring. The time Wikipedia fairly bluntly refers to as ‘Cerebral hemorrhage and after.’

Portrait of the artist as a younger man.

In 2005, Collins fell ill at a radio interview and two days later was in intensive care. He woke from a coma his right side mostly paralysed, and only able to speak four phrases: ‘Yes’, ‘no’, the more remarkable ‘The possibilities are endless’, and ‘Grace Maxwell’ – the name of his wife and manager, who is still by his side - and on the line with him as he haltingly but determinedly gets his words out. She encourages, cajoles, adds necessary details, and even occasionally takes the piss (“Edwyn! Get back to the point and stop talking about yourself!”).
Collins doesn’t shy from his condition, most of his answers actually starting with “Since my stroke…” and a matter-of-fact Scots tone about some of his achievements. For while his speech often seems frustrated that he can’t quite get the thoughts behind out quick enough, some other of his neural paths appear untouched. When he sings, the voice has all the deep timbre of ever and just flows out. Perhaps even more remarkably, in 2008 he suddenly found himself able to write songs again: “Yes, it was like a switch,” he slowly confirms, “But different – the choruses are the easy part. The verses, trying to tell a story, that’s harder now."

Those beautiful Scottish boys, now with added life experience.
L. to R: Mr R. Frame, Mr E. Collins

He made it the long way back. His second post-stroke record, the maybe ironically-titled Understated – even on his own AED label. The respect from generations of Scottish musicians revealed by some of the names helping out on these later albums: Aztec Camera’s Roddy Frame, various of The Cribs, and particularly Franz Ferdinand’s Alex Kapranos – who narrated a BBC documentary of Collins’ story. Collins and Grace are now settled in their own bespoke home and studio – Clashnarrow, a timber and zinc-clad piece of modern sculpture overlooking a suitably dramatic vista of the North Sea. His latest work, Badbea – named for a deserted town a couple of k.’s from his front door, done at this beautiful bolthole, and celebrated on the album cover.

Nice digs, Ed.

There’s also been an Ivor Novella arts award, and a self-illustrated children’s book. Which you might think reasonable for the former commercial artist, until he clarifies one important point: ‘That took a while, I had to learn how to draw again - with my left hand. It was a bit ropey to begin with, but the animals look like the animals they’re supposed to be now.” He laughs at himself. He admits to some holes in memories of his career, “But I think I know most of the words in the songs again now…,” he jokes. And even recalls some fashion notes. The clip for Orange Juice’s biggest hit, Rip It Up, had the band cavorting down wintry Scottish streets in some dangerously loud Hawaiian shirts. “Oh yeah, we did that. In the cold. Stupid. But I still love a bad Hawaiian shirt.” There’s another pause, and another loud chuckle.

If you chose to walk through 80's Glasgow dressed like this,
you're a brave soul on many levels.