Edwyn Collins: Postcard from the Edge

“I got on well with everyone in the studio. Even Johnny Marr.” Edwyn Collins laughs mischievously when namechecking the illustrious cast recruited to work on his seventh solo album, Losing Sleep. The former Orange Juice frontman was able to draw on a contacts book that included the likes of Franz Ferdinand’s Alex Kapranos and Nick McCarthy, Roddy Frame (Aztec Camera), Ryan Jarman (The Cribs), members of The Drums  and of course, the legendary Smiths guitarist Marr.

Recorded in his own West Heath Studios, Collins maintained harmony by insisting on some simple ground rules. “I wanted it direct, I wanted it positive and I wanted it fast,” he intones before his partner Grace Maxwell adds: “Edwyn doesn't like any mucking about in the studio. Well, you can muck about and have a laugh but nothing self-indulgent.”

Hilariously and in unison, they adopt the comically exaggerated affectations of the tortured artist. “Oh I'm not sure, this isn't really working for meeee. I need to find my muuuse.” Collins continues:“I just get on with things and try to make them exciting but searching for 'my muse’? It's too much for me. It's... shit in fact.”

Collins takes his entourage on a British tour in November, minus his special-guest contributors, but hints at the potential of a couple of surprise appearances along the way saying, “It may or may not happen, we just don’t know who can turn up or not, but we hope some of the guests can show up on occasion.” Then he directly addresses what could have been considered the elephant in the room. “I’ve been finding that the gigs are going well, my talking is still dodgy, but my singing is getting there.”

At the beginning of the interview, before Grace makes her appearance, Collins admits that he needs her help. "Just a little bit, but we can give it a go right now if you want?” It’s not just out of a sense of politeness that he makes this offer; there's an air of determination which suggests he's more than willing to test himself in a scenario he’s basically had to relearn from scratch in the past five years, ever since he suffered a massive stroke which could, and possibly should have killed him.
 
And so, though it was the intention to keep the focus strictly on Edwyn Collins – the musician (and to be fair, the music is the reason we were having the conversation in the first place), it quickly becomes apparent that the music and his continued remarkable recovery from an inability to speak, read, write, walk, even think, are inextricably linked. In addressing it directly and using it as a framing reference for everything that’s happened in his career since, Collins is certainly not fishing for sympathy, nor feels ‘patronised’ when it keeps coming up. It gets mentioned in every interview he’s done simply because he keeps bringing it up. If anything, there’s a distinct sense of pride in everything he’s accomplished since that devastating setback, and a fierce desire to continue in that progressive vein. “I’m coming on slowly, and it’s very invigorating. After six months in hospital where I couldn’t say a thing, now the possibilities are endless,” he explains.
 
“Edwyn's life is very busy and full-on and he's actually flourishing because of all the interviews he's doing. That's helping him enormously, it's a nice challenge,” comments Grace, who last year published an account of their experiences in her book, Falling and Laughing. "He used to be famous for his onstage patter, so he's really fighting to get that back." 

Collins is also without the use of his right hand, robbing him of the opportunity to play guitar properly. Whilst he hopes to rectify this in time for the next album, he's found inventive ways of circumventing the problem. "I bought a dictaphone for £20 which I use to record all my thoughts about a song, not just vocals. Guitar parts, rhythm parts, piano parts; and then I tell the other guys what I'm thinking and they play it."

Collins frequently goes out of his way to thank the people who have helped him with his recovery, particularly of course, Grace. He laughs when he says "Grace. Thank you to her for getting me well again... and stuff like that," but becomes instantly more serious, surprising even Grace by saying "Five years ago, I was frightened all the time about life's downsides and how my condition was affecting my confidence. I was very vulnerable, but thanks to everyone, I'm normal again."

It is a recovery Grace has attributed somewhat to Collins' ego, though she's quick to clarify that it's a healthy ego, in a nice way. "He's not ever been an arrogant guy," she explains, "but I think he has been focussed, tunnel-visioned, able to absorb himself, in himself all his life, and that can outwardly appear to be quite selfish sometimes. But I don't think he could help it. I just think he had an interesting inner life and even at school, he was not troubled about what people thought of him or their interpretation or reaction to him. I think that's really helped him in his recovery because people who don't know him, generally assume he is mentally deficient.

"You see a lot of weirdness which goes on around him, which he actually doesn't pay the least bit of heed to. So where you have people who've had something bad happen to them and talk about how hurtful the world's reaction has been, Edwyn doesn't have that problem. He's not troubled by that, because, in the nicest possible way, he doesn't care. It's all about his own satisfaction and his own reading of himself."

Collins is convinced that the only course of action in such a scenario is to meet the challenge head on, citing the first six months where he was hospitalised and unable to speak as the most frustrating period of the process. "Being pushed around in hospital is a no-no. I needed to get home and start asserting myself again. Not to do that is anathema to my personality."