Justin Robert Currie (born 11 December 1964 in Glasgow, Scotland) is a Scottish singer and songwriter, best known as the founding member of the band Del Amitri and, along with Iain Harvie, is one of only two members of the group to be present throughout its entire existence.
Justin Currie established the band Del Amitri while still at school in the early 1980s, after putting up a sign in a music shop asking for other people who could play instruments to get in contact with him. As well as being the lead singer and chief songwriter of the band, Currie also plays bass with them.
As a songwriter, he co-wrote many of the Del Amitri tracks with Harvie, but some of their most successful songs have been tracks penned solely by Currie. These include "Nothing Ever Happens", "Always the Last to Know" and "Roll to Me".
Although there have been no official reports of Del Amitri splitting up, the band were dropped by record company Mercury in 2002 after a perceived lack of success for their album of that year, Can You Do Me Good?. Since then Currie has been working on several other critically acclaimed[citation needed] projects.
Big Macs for the fat, lo-cal wraps for the call centre battery hens,
Japanese snacks for the choice-spoilt citizens, caviar kickbacks for the citadel denizens.
Airport shoeshines servicing the suits among the little silver stereos and hand-rolled cheroots,
First class passengers file on last after the scum are packed in with their tax-free loot.
Checkout calamity, you're cheated out of loyalty points, ten more years at this joint you'd be home & dry,
Beggars beat round the cash machines but you just slip between them with the usual lie.
Terrible tales of kidnapped kids keep you focused on the family and filling up the fridge,
Neighbourhood watchers shop dole dodgers, stick their semis on the market & start racking up the bids.
Should you stand and fight, should you die for what you think is right
So your useless contribution will be remembered?
If you're asking me I say no, surrender.
Constant growth the cancerous cure, a swarming race of profiteers ensure
Cheap cars for the rich, cheap lives for the poor, cheap weeks in the sun, free drinks at the door.
Puerile propaganda plugs up the TV, keep folk following the money so they'll never be free
Keep them swallowing the swill, the celebrities, the paedophiles, the immigrants invading from the
camp over the hill.
War talk, the big debate, footsoldiers in the capitol liberating new kinds of hate
Cum-shots of human dots caught in the spotlight's glare
Well I'm talking to myself not you, so don't get mad
'cause I need a friend who won't talk back
And he is letting me finally see some sense
and I know I should be mending fences
but why would I do that?
When I won't feel along, long as you don't come back.
And I know that you've been picking through the bones of me
trying to find a heart of stone
Well if it's there throw it at my picture
'cause I know I should be building bridges
but why would I do that?
When I won't feel along, long as you don't come back.
Don't come back, don't come round crying
Whatever the angle I ain't buying
Whatever the accent you've been trying.
So I'm talking to myself not you, and it ain't so bad
at least I don't put myself down
And sometimes I even sound like you
and I know I should be making amends
but why would I do that?
When I won't feel along
I won't feel alone
No, I won't feel alone
As long as you don't come back.