Life should never feel small: A few words about Colin Vearncombe aka Black

Before Christmas, I'd been listening a lot to Black's 1987 debut album Wonderful Life. It'd been a while since I'd dug it out, and it took only a few tracks for me to ask myself why I'd left it quite so long. An astounding long-player, it took me back to my life at the time of its original release but, as with such things, the events of my life since then have also allowed me to find new significance in many of its lyrics.

I'd actually started making notes for a blog post on the album, and I even conjured up the half-notion of having my photo taken on Liverpool's Dock Road holding my copy of the album, as a tribute to its cover. Whether I'd ever get up early enough to do that (or get anyone to actually take the photo) is another story.

I'd always thought it an underrated album, and thought it'd be nice to get some thoughts down at some point.

As it happens, I am now writing a blogpost about Black, or Colin Vearncombe as he was known to his family, friends and fans alike. They say people only say nice things about you when you're dead, and the tragic, bitter irony is that it is Colin's sad passing today which has finally prompted me to write about him.

Even those people only familiar with the Wonderful Life single -- a glorious slab of melancholy with a delicious lyrical twist -- will be aware that this Liverpool-born talent possessed an impressive voice, and could write a damn good song. But that's just the tip of the iceberg.

I've talked about his best-known album a little bit so far, but others will remember his other big hit, the sumptuous, mysterious Sweetest Smile. But even if the chart spotlight couldn't quite place him again, Colin continued to make terrific, beguiling music. Comedy, his 1990 follow-up to Wonderful Life, carried the lovely You're A Big Girl Now, while Colin tapped into bluegrass and gospel for influences for 2009's Water On Stone. His most recent album, 2015's Blind Faith, was almost a grown-up reflection on his debut album and showed Colin at the height of his songwriting talent, with poignant tracks like When It's Over a perfect compliment to his rich voice, perhaps now sounding more like Scott Walker than ever.

But, as an 80s music fan through and through, it's the Wonderful Life album I keep returning to.

The impressive melodrama of Everything Coming Up Roses, with its uptempo arrangement and delightful bridge, provides a great counterpoint with the legendary Wonderful Life, whilst the understated but deeply moving I Just Grew Tired is a remarkable piece of composition for a man then in his mid-20s. The bombast of I'm Not Afraid is too strong for some tastes but is a bold 80's style thumper, whilst the rocky and elliptical Sixteens tips its hat to Bowie.

But my favourite track, and indeed probably my favourite Black song, is the beautiful ballad, Paradise.

Released as the fifth single from the album, the thoughtful Paradise could only reach #38 in 1988, a sensitive child lost in the busy schoolyard of the 1988 charts where the likes of Yazz and Bros shouted for everyone's attention. Now, I like good old pop music like the best of them, but I always found it a shame that this sublime track didn't reach a wider audience.

Written by Colin with producer Dave Dix, Paradise is a poetic tale of escaping the pain of everyday life and seeking refuge in love.

A low-key arrangement led by piano, chimes, bass and subtle percussion allows Colin's voice to dominate, allows him to deliver the song with the arrangement rather than against it.

Colin takes many voices on the Wonderful Life album -- melancholy, irony, regret, cynicism -- but here he goes for sincerity and optimism. "I feel the weight of your heart / And I know a way it can change", Colin tells his loved one, "Just take my hand and we can make it to paradise".

The semi-operatic, climbing chorus sells the image, seals the deal -- "Just like a forming rainbow / Just like the stars in the sky / Life should never feel small".

A further verse sees Colin go for further persuasion -- "We are losers now / It wouldn’t hurt to try / Oh wrap me up in passioned arms / And tell me, tell me you love" --  with heartbreaking simplicity.

Authenticity is the mark of a great artist, and on this track, Colin sings every word like he means it. Damn it, he really does mean it.

The sweetness of the images of the rainbow and the starry sky are cut through with the bittersweet wisdom that "life should never feel small". A wisdom that is often learned the hard way, and this line measures the song's optimism with a dash of melancholy.

For many reasons, I find this an incredibly moving song. And never more so than tonight as it plays as I type these words.

I never met Colin, nor saw him live. But the tributes appearing tonight suggest that, as well as a talented musician and songwriter, he was a thoroughly decent chap, loved and admired by many. And surely that is the greatest tribute of all.

Thanks for the music, Colin. And thanks for reminding us that life should never feel small.