I’ve been listening to the new Trashcan Sinatras album religiously since its release last week, and I don’t use that word lightly, music has been my religion for as long as I can remember, with Trashcan Sinatras always holding a special place in my heart, alongside the likes of The Smiths, The Associates and The Jesus and Mary Chain. Ever the Optimist already had the feeling of being a Trashcans classic on the first few listens, so much so I was struggling to find the right words to use in describing the music, and the way the album was making me feel.
Events then took an unexpectedly tragic turn with the passing of John Douglas, an event that made me start listening to the album again in a whole new light. I don’t have a personal connection with John, and while I know plenty of Ayrshire folks who could, and do, talk fondly of their connections, I can only speak from a position of a fan of the music and how it makes me feel. Nonetheless, his passing has had me changing my perspective on the songs on Ever the Optimist and starting to read different messages into the songs and music as I try to make sense of what happened, while at the same time enjoying the album for what it is, a magnificent work of art.
Rewind back to 1990 for a moment when I was blown away on first hearing this song called Obscurity Knocks, to me and close friends it was a surefire hit single if ever we heard one and felt an immediate need to hear more from this intriguing new band. The song had everything, self effacing humour in it’s title, an addictive melody with it’s hook laden jangly guitars, and those lyrics, the opening few lines blew me away and have stayed with me ever since…
“Always at the foot of the photograph,
That’s me there, snug as a thug
In a mugshot pose, a foul-mouthed rogue
Owner of this corner and not much more…”
And that was just the first few lines. I don’t think I’d been as gobsmacked by a song, or felt such a connection to a band, since I’d first heard The Smiths. Maybe they spoke to me even more in some ways, anyway they were undeniably up there on a par with them, Reader and Douglas are to Kilmarnock what Morrissey and Marr are to Manchester. The thought that this band was something special was confirmed when I bought the 12 inch single with its additional songs, Drunken Chorus, Best Man’s Fall and Who’s He? cementing these musical geniuses as my new favourite band, the b-sides perhaps speaking to me even more that the single itself. Then on my first time seeing the band in King Tuts in 1990 everything just clicked into place, I was utterly wowed, and there was a surprising cover of Ace of Spades and a wildly manic Frank Reader thrown in for good measure!
This was just the beginning of a lifelong undying love affair with the music of Trashcan Sinatras, whose early songs were complex and wise beyond their years. With Ever the Optimist, that love affair continues unabated, the songwriting and mastery which has developed over the years now demonstrates a real life maturity they showed in their early years, now reaching that certain age that has us all reflecting on the vagaries of life, the theme running through the album reflecting on a lot of life lessons along the way and grabbing life with both hands.
The title of the album takes me full circle back to those early days where, after my incredulity and disappointment of Obscurity Knocks not being a worldwide number one smash, my mate and I were so obsessed with the band that we drunkenly talked long into the night after a performance in a Big Top as part of Mayfest about how we would leave our jobs with the sole purpose of making Trashcan Sinatras the biggest band in the world… I guess they did alright without us.
As I consider the journey of Trashcan Sinatras and my other favourite band, The Smiths, it strikes me that the new album and the longevity and ongoing creativity of Trashcan Sinatras really stands the test of time, and in no way am I taking away from the legacy of The Smiths in this statement, with a back catalogue of incredible songs and music that more than stands the test of time and will alwaysremain among my go to songs and albums. I say it from the perspective of a fan of both bands whose love affair with the music of Morrissey has completely dissipated over time, in my opinion, he now isn’t fit to lace the boots of the Killie 5, with the album packed as it is with songs the former Smiths frontman could only dream of writing nowadays.
I don’t think many people would consider me an optimist, an overthinking brain and high levels of anxiety combine resulting in me having a pessimistic view of most things and managing to find the negative in every positive. I was always a cup half empty person. It’s only taken me 57 years but 2026 has been a bit of a turning point in my ways of dealing with the world, and listening to this album, despite the recent events impacting the band, and their wider family and friends, and the themes of some of the songs, I come away every time with a feeling of positivity and optimism thanks in no small part to the combination of the uplifting rhythms and melodies in the music, alongside the deeply thought provoking lyrics. There are no half measures here, the cup is full to running over. This is the sound of a band on top of their game, a band who know exactly what they want to say, a band who has matured like a good wine, musically and lyrically, and they have created an album which delivers in every way possible, making it my favourite Trashcans album since A Happy Pocket. Don’t get me wrong, in recent days listening to the album, it’s not all been sunshine and roses, I’ve shed more than tear or two, especially when listening to some of these songs after hearing of John’s untimely passing and re-evaluating the songs, reading new meaning into them.
Music to me serves many purposes, at gigs it is a coming together of people to revel in the music of bands we love, which may be the only thing connecting the people in the room, it allows people to share special moments and forget all their troubles, even just for an hour or two. The flipside is the very personal, and sometimes selfish, side when you listen alone and the music impacts you in different ways, depending on the songs and your own mood. Those times when you focus on the music and nothing else, where you connect personally and, despite what the lyric writers and composers of the music have in mind when they write the songs, you read your own meanings and stories into the songs as you make links to your own circumstances and personal experiences.
With this in mind I feel a personal connection with the opening song on the album, the upbeat title track, Ever the Optimist. The song kicks off the album in assured style, simultaneously feeling typically Trashcans while at the same time ploughing a new furrow. This is an anthem of positivity about taking control of your life in a world full of doom and gloom. This is an instant earworm and what could even be described as a Trashcans dancefloor filler. As the almost disco funk intro fills the air, there is a gratifying feeling of undaunting self belief in the face of adversity as the band hit the sweet spot with their harmony packed groove, with relatable gambling analogies strewn through the song…
“I’m just gambling, trying to hold it together, always forever, through stormy weather”
It is just the start of a theme that runs through the album about grabbing life with both hands and making the most of our time on this spinning rock hurtling through space.
The following three songs were all single tasters released in the run up to the album, all distinctly Trashcans but each with its own mood and tone. Games for the ZX Spectrum, the first of the trio is packed with ardent emotion, tinged with a sense of melancholy. At its core is a passionately yearning melody underpinned with compelling acoustic guitars, and lyrics including the repeated phrase “don’t know what I’m doing any more” giving a mixture of sentiments from an air of perplexity through to a determination to persevere. The song also contains a nod to another famed Ayrshire lyrical poet, one of Scotlands most famous sons.
The band teamed up with Camera Obscura’s Traceyanne Campbell who provided some divine harmonies on the sunshine swathed jangle pop of the bittersweet single Bad Husband. The positive summery air to the melody soundtracks lyrics that reveal lessons that only come with some lived experience, and tackles the realisation that coming to hard decisions and having harder conversations is the right thing to do… “all I really needed to say was, this isn’t working”
The Bitter End is the one of the songs I’ve been revisiting a lot and the one that brought me to tears the first time I listened after the news of Johns death. It’s not a sad song, it is another that has an effervescent buoyancy to it, a gloriously textured multi layered song full of complexities and beautiful riffs. At its heart is a message of always being there for your loved ones through thick and thin. As I listened again to the song following John’s tragic death the lyrics take on a new poignancy, the lines that say it all for me are perhaps obvious… “In memory of a friend, I’ll meet you again at the bitter end.” This is a song that says everything you need it to say.
When you’ve just been a bit of an emotional wreck and you follow The Bitter End with another seemingly joyously uplifting light-hearted melody in the shape of the angelic harmony laden A View From Nowhere, and you listen to the lyrics continuing the theme of making the most of every moment you have, the emotion creeps up on you resulting in that emotional lump in the throat remaining. I had an overwhelming vision of Bing Crosby and Rosemary Clooney in White Christmas listening to the lyrical references of counting your blessings.
I deliberately didn’t look at any credits or sleeve notes before I listened to the album for the first time, and as the opening moments of Hold on to Today started, a minimalistic arrangement partnering Frank’s breathy vocal, I was already of the mind that this was shaping up nicely as one of my new favourite Trashcans songs. And then, much to my surprise and great delight, the dulcet tones of Green Gartside filled the air, pretty much cementing this song as a definite new favourite. This is a swoonsome ballad with a captivating melody and thought provoking lyrics that speak of living life in the moment and making the most of every day. Utterly beautiful.
Lyrically The Associated Funk deals with the baggage we carry with us through life and musically changes the mood entirely from the preceding song with its slow burn intro building to a bold and boisterously brooding rhythm, instruments combining and layering until the song reaches its contemplative peak, before dare I say, it reveals a touch of Joy Division in the closing bars.
Perhaps the prime cut from this new record is Rome, everything about it is fittingly monumental right from the songs captivating opening which took me back to the majestic widescreen stylings of their cover of To Sir With Love while also having the symphonic cinematic essence of John Barry and his Bond scores. It’s a song that keeps on giving, discovering new little nuances on each listen, as the symphonic background is layered with scratchy guitar lines while Frank and John’s vocals creating a perfect foil for each other, with an affecting guitar part from John and the addition of little riffs which seemingly pay homage to the Carol of the Bells. This feels like the most experimental song of the bands career and it works incredibly well.
Melodramatic takes us back to more familiar Trashcans territory and is another instant classic, full of soaring jangly guitar parts and Frank’s perfectly formed lyrical couplets. With one in particular resonating with me, “got my hands at ten to two, got my eyes on my peripheral view” making me smile as it brought back memories of my mum, reminding me of her desire to see “happy clocks.”
Penultimate song Birds I Couldn’t Identify is another mature and contemplative song with at the same time an exquisitely brittle and powerfully emotive melody and a lyrical exploration of past actions and decisions with some regretful phrases, “I kept getting distracted” and “I focussed in the wrong things” and using the bird analogy for missing identifying the things in life that had the potential to cause harm and bring negativity.
Learning to Love Your Ghost closes the album with a newly affecting resonance, a slow burner of a song which starts with a sense of loss and sadness, before moving through the cycles of grief and acceptance, the layers of instruments and the underlying melody rising in its buoyancy in line with Frank’s ebullient uplift in his vocal delivery to close the song with a sense of hopeful optimism, resilience and remembrance, with the repeated phrase “I will float” soaring into the ether. Like a perfect reminder.
Trashcan Sinatras – TRASHCAN SINATRAS
Perhaps this is the definitive Trashcans album, an immaculate swansong for the genius who was John Douglas. Not many people in life can leave behind such a legacy as his, being an integral part of such an extraordinary body of work created by the inimitable band of Ayrshire brothers. Rest in power John, your gift of music is indelibly marked on the heart and soul of every Trashcan Sinatras fan the world over.
