Remembrance of Things Already and Yet to Come: Scott Hutchison Confirmed Dead at 36
Scott Hutchison, frontman for the Scottish indie band Frightened Rabbit, was reported missing two days ago. He had last been seen leaving the Dakota Hotel in South Queensferry on foot in the late hours of the night. Right away things went grim. A statement from the band was released shortly thereafter stating that Scott “may not be making the best decisions for himself right now.” A poster quickly swept the Twittersphere, requesting any and all information on his whereabouts with the urgent message: “Scott, we are here for you whenever you are ready; we can listen, talk you through what help you need, pass a message for you, and help you to be safe.” He was found dead this morning at the age of 36 (May 10).
I have written and deleted many words in regards to his passing. Partly because there are so many things being said by those close to him, which are far better than I could say, and partly because words just seem to miss the mark when something like this happens. The thing that has always struck me about Hutchison’s songwriting is that he provided a way to live, not despite the sorrow, but with it. His lyricism embodies a place of feeling those moments we too often try so hard to get past. In a world where we are too often evaluated based off our productivity, it leaves little time to feel those moments that don’t just make us human but make us distinctive individuals. The novelist Marcel Proust demonstrated how the most mundane of lives can burst forth in a fantasia of glittering parts through constellations of introspection should we have the time and wherewithal to trace their trajectory. Scott Hutchison has done that for many with his songs. He did it for me, too.
May is mental health awareness month, and Hutchison was an open advocate for those suffering from such issues. Pick any song he’s sung, and you will hear it. In the end, the best words can often be their own. Shortly before Scott went missing he posted to his Twitter account:
“Be so good to everyone you love… Please, hug your loved ones.”
My heart goes out to all those affected. Now is not the time to lament what was lost. It is a time to rejoice in what we had. We can all still follow the tracings he made in the depths of his songwriting and find comfort and strength in what he did and where we are still yet to go. This unfortunate end is not a refutation. Rather, it shows the depth of the human condition. The broken pieces don’t always fit back the way they started, others get lost, and sometimes we are left with something short of being whole. As Scott sings in “How it Gets In,”
It’s how it gets in
It’s how it gets in, to invisible loversOpened by instruments, closed by a thread
There’s a space in the stitch
