Album Review: ‘Last Night in the Bittersweet’ - Paolo Nutini
Last Night in the Bittersweet is very much indebted to the agonies and ecstasies of love, much more dreamy-eyed and introspective in comparison to the longing and lust of Caustic Love.
(Originally posted on Luna Paper)
Paolo Nutini really is the Carmen Sandiego of the music world. Just where in the world was he all these years?
The truth isn’t really as dramatic or mysterious as you might think: He travelled, gave random performances in random bars and clubs, wrote, listened to a lot of records during the pandemic, had his heart broken…
‘The realities of doing this and the whole experience doesn’t feel entirely natural to me,’ Nutini told Rolling Stone. ‘I’m not the most extroverted person, but when you’re on a stage you find yourself opening yourself up in that way. The more vulnerable the better, too, when you’re trying to give your audience a piece of you and you’re hoping to get something back. Once that ends, I’ve always had to recalibrate my fucking brain.’
And now, the Scottish singer returns to remind us why he’s in a class of his own on fourth album, Last Night in the Bittersweet, traversing incredibly vast sonic terrain while trying to make sense of the past eight years.
‘Afterneath’ kicks off the record with a wild howl in the darkness, a killer cut of Zepplin-fuelled post-punk that delivers seductively menacing threats while sampling audio snippets from Quentin Tarantino’s 1993 film, True Romance (‘I look back and I’m amazed/That my thoughts were so clear and true/That three words went through my mind endlessly/Repeating themselves like a broken record/You’re so cool’). It’s sex and vengeance all rolled into one and, wow, I wanna listen to it over and over again.
Nutini’s thick Scottish drawl also shines through on interlude ‘Stranded Words,’ evoking the feel of a traditional Celtic paean, and the grimy, Krautrock-inspired ‘Lose It.’ ‘I could not seem to find/A way out of my worried mind,’ he admits while backed by a rousing choir, pounding the pulpit like some sort of rambling beatnik preacher before reaching a state of transcendence.
‘Desperation’ longs for escape, with a breezy, infectious energy that channels the bewitching majesty of Fleetwood Mac. ‘Petrified in Love’ is the kind of Beatles-esque, paisley-printed joy born to soundtrack an offbeat romcom montage (a compliment, I swear). ‘Children of the Stars’ is acid-tinged psychedelia that praises a ‘woman of wonder’ who moves restlessly and carefree.
Yet Last Night in the Bittersweet is very much indebted to the agonies and ecstasies of love, much more dreamy-eyed and introspective in comparison to the longing and lust of Caustic Love.
‘I want love, I want love,’ Nutini sighs on the late-night coastal rock of ‘Radio,’ riding that bassy, smooth FM kind of groove. He declares himself a ‘hopeless romantic’ on the phenomenal ‘Heart Filled Up,’ a Radiohead-style slow burn that just builds and builds until it explodes into a stunning, synth-fuelled aurora, adding hints of whimsy with piping horns and celestial bleeps.
‘Acid Eyes,’ meanwhile, sees the singer pining for a lover who’s moved to Mexico, conjuring up a vivid slideshow full of buzzing cicadas and memories melting on broken flowers. A brooding post-rock lament, the track was originally intended as a duet with Danielle Haim, but Nutini was too ‘anxious’ to ask, which is strangely endearing.
The ghostly post-rock of ‘Shine a Light’ has him laying content in another’s arms, unable to speak or think. On the country-dusted ‘Abigail,’ he’s envisioning domestic bliss, the sort that’ll make any girl listening wish it was them.
The record is raw, anxious and unpredictable, but Nutini’s penchant for old-school soul still remains.
Recent single ‘Through the Echoes’ already feels like a timeless classic, a pandemic-era ballad that combines the yearning soul of Otis Redding with the classic rock reverence of Creedence Clearwater Revival. ‘Everywhere’ recalls big band showstoppers like ‘One Day’ and ‘No Other Way’ from 2009’s Sunny Side Up, Nutini basically tearing his heart out to give us one of his best vocal performances yet.
Last Night in the Bittersweet ends with a trifecta of gut-wrenching ballads, bringing plenty of romantic regret to the fore.
The string-laced, Lennon-esque’ heartbreaker ‘Julianne’ bids farewell to an old love, making peace in a soft haze of swirling psychedelics. ‘Take Me, Take Mine’ is sweeping lounge jazz, Nutini’s voice so achingly tender at times, that it threatens to break as he begs a lover to take his peace of mind in place of their own.
‘Writer,’ however, is a rich, varied summation of the past eight years. ‘And I wanna thank you, for all that it’s cost you,’ he sings over weathered guitar, ‘For being the most beautiful part of my life,’ before bidding ‘thank you, good luck and goodnight,’ emerging from the experience weary, but much more clear-eyed and hopeful.
From anyone else, Last Night in the Bittersweet would be too long, too bloated and too experimental.
But in Nutini’s hands, it’s a sprawling magnum opus. It takes a couple of listens for it to truly sink in, but when it does, it’s truly euphoric.
Produced alongside longtime collaborators Dani Castelar and Gavin Fitzjohn, the singer expands his oeuvre in new and charmingly batshit ways, which helps to give the record a raw, analogue feel, as if it were all performed live in the studio. The storytelling is goddamn poetry, turning existential crises and romantic confessions into gold spun hooks; the arrangements truly sublime as Nutini & co. build walls upon walls of sound.
Although still criminally underrated, Nutini is at a rather enviable point in his career, able to present a record as diverse as this to his label and not be at the mercy of algorithms or trends; producing tracks that already sound timeless. Even his social media presence is limited to just promo stuff. In a sea of disposable pop, he’s a truly old-school act.
Hope we don’t have to wait another eight years for the next album…