There’s something overshadowing my life at the moment. Looming large, I’m struggling to overcome it. Every day is a challenge – some days are better than others. There is an end in sight, but sometimes, just sometimes, it seems a long, long way away.

I guess I feel a little bit broken right now.

It’s been a long 14, 15 months now – I’ve faced more than I’ve had to face for years, and it’s been a non-stop rollercoaster of emotions. What I would like now, more than anything else, is a quiet few weeks of nothingness. To work; to spend time with my girlfriend, friends and family; to spend time on my hobbies; to sleep. To recover. To catharsise. But this seems a while away yet, so I’ll keep on keeping on.


So, with this, I give you Bell X1, and “Bad Skin Day”. For me, one of their two standout tracks from X’s “Flock”, “Bad Skin Day” is my catharsis in vocal form.

When I wake in the morning of a bad skin day.
And I can’t face my lover on a bad skin day.
Am I this alone?
Volcano has erupted, and the ash sails down. And I’m a poor soul of Pompeii.
Oh Christ, I’m such a drama queen on a bad skin day.
And you’re far from me. You’re all far from me. Right where I want you to be. Far from me
I could’ve got a job. I could’ve been a contender, when I never. But the streak is only so long.
They’re all different shades of the same song.
There’s a wind in these sails. Feels like I’m always waiting for the gold in them there hills, feels like I’m never…them there hills.
And they’re far from me.
Someday we’ll all wear a crown.
Far from me.
Someday we’ll be the fairest of them all.
So far from me.
Someday we’ll have an open top bus parade.
Far from me.
Someday we’ll do the sorry sorry charade.
It feels like we’re always waiting. It feels like we’re never leading.

Bell X1 – Bad Skin Day

www: Bell X1

In a time before I knew who Daniel Lanois was, my tape collection left a lot to be desired. I refuse to name some of the names, but if you saw it, you’d wonder how a woman in her mid-thirties with a fetish for ballads had gotten her hands on some obscure local rock acts (or vice versa).

But there was one tape I was proud of. As myself and my family left for a holiday in 1993, my parents said that my sister and I could choose one tape each to buy in the music shop in Dublin airport. I came across a white-covered tape, with a man’s silhouette in a doorway.

During that holiday, I listened to that tape again and again. And again. And again. Then, when I returned home, within a few weeks, the tape lay forgotten as my very short attention span drifted.

The years passed, my tape collection gather dust. CD’s and MP3s filled my room and computer, respectively. Until a couple of years ago, when I went through my tapes, and pulled out a familiar cover – “Drift”, by the Devlins.


The Devlins were originally a duo – Colin and Peter Devlin, from Dublin. For three of their four albums, they grew into a four-piece band. The Devlins were a strange, strange group – I supported their cause. I bought their albums. I went to their gigs. I told all and sundry about how great this band were – wonderful melodies, catchy tunes, thoughtful lyrics. But the band themselves…how best to put this…the band themselves were “lazy”. They could have been huge. Could have been the next big thing. But they always seemed happy with what they had. Whenever I brought my friends to their gigs, my friends (and I) would leave entertained, but nothing more. I found myself always justifying the time just spent – “They can sound so much better than that – I’ll lend you their CD’s…”

Their latter two albums, 2002’s “Consent” and 2005’s “Waves” were…nice. But it was the aforementioned Drift, and 1997’s stunning masterpiece, “Waiting”, that always disappointed me about the Devlins. After those two albums of absolute perfection, I, still to this day, find myself waiting for the Devlins to fulfill their destiny. And trying to ignore that little voice that says they probably never will.

From “Drift”, I give you the quiet desperation of “I Don’t Want To Be Like This”, and the slightly louder desperation of “Someone To Talk To”. From “Waiting”, I give you the ephemeral “Surrender”, and the utter sadness of “Where Are You Tonight?”

Finally, from “Waves”, the optimism of “Don’t Let It Break Your Heart”.

Colin Devlin’s solo album is due out in the next few weeks. That little voice is wondering – will it break my heart?

The Devlins – I Don’t Want To Be Like This

The Devlins – Someone To Talk To

The Devlins – Surrender

The Devlins – Where Are You Tonight?

The Devlins – Don’t Let It Break Your Heart

www: The Devlins official website and Colin Devlin’s website