Two years ago Joe McAlinden settled himself down to do what he does most naturally - create music. But something had changed.
‘I sat there with my piano and guitar, ready to play, ready to write, ready to create,’ says Joe. ‘And nothing happened. Absolutely nothing. My brain just didn’t kick in. I didn’t know how to make music anymore.
‘I couldn't make sense of it. I've never had a problem creating music. I’ve never had writer’s block. It's never been a problem. I've always been able to create almost on demand. So this was completely different. I was just blank.’
Joe’s struggle to make music wasn’t the only issue he was facing. This artistic paralysis was just one symptom of a wider problem. ‘All of a sudden I had these issues with my memory and I didn’t know why. It was really scary,’ says Joe.
‘For instance, one day I was supposed to be picked up at my house by my mate to go out. And I waited and waited, and I was getting stressed because we were going to be late. And eventually a car comes flying up to the house. It was my friend.
‘He said, “Where have you been, I’ve been waiting for you? You sent me a text 15 minutes ago telling me you were going to walk down to meet me at the main road.”
‘I had no recollection of sending this text. I told him he was wrong and we almost got into an argument, and it wasn't until he showed me the text that I believed him.
‘And still, even after seeing that text, I had no recollection of sending it. You know, these things happen; you can forget to do things or forget things you’ve done, but usually it will come back, usually you’ll remember something. But this didn't come back at all.’
There were other instances, too, that suggested all was not well with Joe.
‘I was really struggling to actually think. It didn't feel like me. I was also struggling with hand to eye coordination. I’d be emptying the dishwasher and trying to put the glass in the cupboard and I’d miss the cupboard and
the glass would fall and smash. And the next one would smash, too. It was quite distressing. I knew there was something wrong but, being your typical west of Scotland male, I didn’t do anything about it at first.’
However, it was the inability to create music that most distressed Joe. ‘Throughout my life, creating music has been my safe zone. I've been able to deal with anything that's been going on, anything that life has thrown at me, through making music. But now I was sitting down to write and just not knowing what to do.
‘After just two or three attempts to write, I just stopped, because this freeze was so alien to me. I was just like, “fuck this”, I don't want to have that feeling of helplessness. So I just avoided it completely for a good while.’
This all came in 2020, after Joe wrote the song 209 and released it pretty quickly.
‘I just wanted to signal that I was still around - the Scottish scene is pretty small and I live away from the centre of it, so you know, out of sight, out of mind. I wanted to let people know I was still making music.
‘And when 209 was done I thought, right, time to write an album. For me, the urge to create music has always come from my desire to play an instrument. That desire to play my guitar or piano has always been my trigger for writing.
‘But this time nothing happened because I actually didn't know how to do it anymore. Because the whole process was just like a complete blank. Nothing sparked, nothing came.’
Joe felt the urge to work. He needed to do something. So he decided to bring home some of his studio equipment and try to write there. But still nothing happened. Three months went by. Then six. Pretty soon it was a year.
‘Then I thought maybe I need to simplify what I do,’ Joe says. ‘Maybe I should look at my equipment and see what I need, and what I don't need and so I started doing that. I also bought new audio plugins and started to learn how to use them and how to make sounds on a keyboard or a guitar or whatever. And, before I knew it, these tiny sounds were starting to make sense of the creative process again. It was a different way of writing and I suddenly felt like I was creating again.
‘Sparkle, which was originally on our (Superstar’s) 1998 album, Palm Tree, was the first song that I played that felt like I was on the right path. Sparkle was a very important part of this process, and that’s why it’s on the album. Without it, nothing else would’ve happened.’
Then, gradually, new songs came.
And what songs. Joe’s hard-won new method of writing has produced sumptuous, soulful songs that sound at once more personal than anything he’s ever written but also somehow more carefully and lovingly assembled. Songs are allowed to unfurl at their own pace. Nothing is rushed. However, although the album is identifiably a Joe McAlinden record (that tender voice!), it sounds like nothing else he’s done, although it shares a poignant generosity of spirit with the aforementioned Palm Tree. There are hints of Kraftwerk and Cocteau Twins on Light, a smidgeon of Vangelis on Hold, and echoes of Björk on 209, but this is very much a Joe McAlinden album in and of itself.

‘It’s definitely an album that doesn’t sound very much like anything I’ve done before,’ says Joe. ‘Maybe it’s because I played every instrument on it - the first record I’ve ever played everything on! Maybe it’s because of my new way of writing. But the thrill of actually finishing this album compared to how and where it all began is my overwhelming feeling right now.
‘I’m really happy with this new way of writing. It feels very new, and it feels very fresh, and it even feels quite young in some respects. I really feel like I've achieved something and I don't even mean in a musical sense. I think just on a personal level, it's a huge achievement.’
As for Joe’s memory issues, they’ve still not been resolved but his doctors are pretty sure there’s nothing badly wrong with him.
‘My neurological consultant is still not certain what has happened to my brain. I have had loads of tests, including MRIs. It just seems as though the receptors aren’t quite firing correctly or as they once did. They’ve pretty much ruled out dementia, though, which is a relief.’
‘I did start to think my time as a musician was done. I started to think about my place in the big bad world. And I thought to myself that thirty years of making music is amazing. And I've been so lucky to be able to do that.
‘If my memory fails again and I can’t play or write anymore, well, I can say I’ve had a pretty good run.’