Nutuni’s Bittersweet Wonderland
Paolo Nutini’s latest release is exactly what you’d expect to be attached to the title “Last Night in the Bittersweet”–an after hours look into the hazy, yet brilliantly-acute mind of the indie-rock poet.
Returning from a 5 year hiatus, Nutini’s 4th studio album is an intimate and timeless 16 track odyssey through layers of the artist’s unresolved subconscious. Leaving no stone unturned, Nutini dives deep into the chaotic melancholy of nostalgia, leaving listeners like myself breathless with hope of gaining resolution from the trinkets of insight he resurfaces with.
Opening with the ethereal cry that is ‘Afterneath’ listeners are quickly thrown down the manic rabbit hole that is Nutini’s desire to regain what he’s lost. His hunger vibrates against the backdrop of sirens as he oscillates between spoken word verses and echoed expressions, serving almost as a warning sign of what’s to come as we crash into the reality of loneliness expressed in his second track “Radio.” It’s here in his swift transition to soulful, soft-rock where Nutini reveals his role as the Mad Hatter, opening doors to familiar worlds where we–the Alices–unassumingly venture down serpentine paths of loss, longing, and acceptance.
Along the way, we drink in conversations between artist and muse, indulging ourselves in Nutini’s sweet devotion such as expressed in his “Through The Echoes'' where he writes–‘when you feel like you’re alone, listen for me coming; through the echoes, straight to you’–promising his unwavering loyalty to a once realized connection. However, astute as ever, Nutini cautions our naivety by lacing his romanticism with bitter sentiments of regret, leaving us choking on the truth of phrases such as ‘I never told you I loved you; those memories left me shaking in the hollow hour, as my memories were left melting in the sun’ in “Acid Eyes” and ‘I built my days on consequence, and now nothing’s ringing true, but tonight I need you’ in “Stranded Words”–a Paisley spoken interlude that stamps the beginning of a necessary respite for us listeners turned acolytes.
Our reprieve comes in the form of back to back tracks “Lose It” and “Petrified in Love” which seem to draw on the vigorous, yet cool undertones of early 2000s garage-rock as a means to mask painful submissions like ‘one and only, the light pours right in and out of you, right onto everything that I do and I say.’ From there, Nutini re-builds tension with emotional instrumentals and untamed vocals in “Everywhere.” The surge of shallow drums and dark trumpets propel his lonely plea into the midnight ether, as he outwardly mourns–‘right or wrong, yes I love you, and without you I wander; it feels like you’re everywhere’–but bids no response. Despite feeling as though all is lost, Nutini flips once more to the other side of his bittersweet equation to flash us a glimpse of the sweet release we’ve been waiting for. Nudged by simple guitar pickings, the artist urges us to meditate on loneliness in “Abigail” where he writes–‘I had a dream last night, that you were beside me, two kids in the garden and all this behind me; no today may taste bitter, maybe tomorrow is gold’–hinting at moments of its potential necessity.
The light at the end of the tunnel seeps through the cracks in tracks 10, 11, and 12 with the contradicting pace of slow instrumental builds and charged electric-solos that flood vocal embracings like ‘you and I can be forgiven, for falling, for thinking that our hearts have both died, in this life we are still living’
where we feel Nutini take his first steps towards acceptance. At moments the tempo feels rushed, almost mimicking the rushing of dawn and insinuating relief from the artist’s never-ending night. Though just before he resurfaces, the artist finds acceptance through the personification of nostalgia in my personal favorite “Julianne.” Floating on soft piano melodies and warm vocal harmonies, he gently delivers his most poignant lyrics yet: ‘words still left to say, but I don't know how they will sound, coming out of my eager mouth; so Julianne, I hope that you might remember, those times when on our minds, there was only each other, 'cause it comes to me so easily, the memories, Julianne.’ Gently followed by “Take Me Take Mine,” Nutini guides our tired hearts and curious minds to rest in the track’s opening half, before sonically transforming and awakening us from his wonderland with revived faith in what’s meant to be, writing: ‘go slow, we don’t want anymore; go slow, we don’t need anymore.’
Finally, the album’s denouement unveils itself in the closing track. With plain acoustics and isolated vocals, Nutini’s nearly-spoken final verse resembles that of a letter–to both himself and his muse–written with the kind of resolution that can only be summoned after a significant passage of time.‘And I'll dream of the ecstasy I used to feel from the startling surprise to the sweet slow reveal; and how I understand you, now that I've lost you; and I wanna thank you, for all that it's cost you; for being, the most beautiful part of my life.’ Reserved, yet reminiscent, “The Writer” embraces the bitter days, alongside the sweet, one last time before bidding us farewell and slipping into his long awaited repose. Hopefully, for our sake, we don’t have to wait another 5 years to be captivated by the artist’s lucid imagination. Although, after experiencing “Last Night in the Bittersweet,” it’s safe to say I’d wait however long it takes to hear what comes next for Paolo Nutini.
