It read “Be good to everyone you love. It’s not a given. I’m so annoyed that it’s not. I didn’t live by that standard and it kills me. Please, hug your loved ones.”
It hit me hard, then the panic set in. One five letter word created a million questions.
“Didn’t”?
Confused by the tweet on my timeline, I did what any of us would do and followed through to the tweeters feed. Expecting nothing, the page loaded and my heart sank.
“I’m away now. Thanks.”
There and then, half of my initial questions were answered, but even more were created.
No, this wasn’t some hint towards the band's planned sixth album. It wasn’t new or unheard lyrics, poetry, or a section from a longer post where this is just the middle. These were the words I didn’t want to ever read. I didn’t want it to be true, for it to be what I thought it was, but in my heart, I knew it was true.
My thoughts admittedly ran wild. Unable to concentrate on replying to emails or doing my end of year uni work, I threw all of my favourite Frightened Rabbit tracks into a playlist and scoured the internet for anything related to these tweets. Already aware of the band's lyrics and personal battles with mental illness, I feared the absolute worst.
There were no search results. No related content. No follow up tweets. Nothing.
Hours later from the official account, Frightened Rabbit tweeted “We are worried about Scott, who has been missing for a little while now. He may be in a fragile state and may not be making the best decisions for himself right now…”
I just knew. I think a lot of us did, but we made ourselves find hope. Scared and confused, I hit retweet. I logged onto my personal account and again, hit retweet. Part of my mind was telling me it would be okay. That this was just a really bad day but things would work out fine in the end. I hoped another few hours would pass and the band would send out another tweet saying ‘sorry for the panic. We found him and he’s okay’. Though, the tweet never came.
Instead, replies flooded in from people who knew and had met Scott. All hoping he was okay, sending their love and reminiscing about late night pub conversations and memorable sets, willing him to come home. Almost as if they were trying to get his attention, make him break the silence and just respond. Respond with a tweet, a retweet, alike, just anything.
There was nothing.
I tried to take my mind off it all, telling myself I was just overthinking and all would be fine, while ‘Pedestrian Verse’ played on repeat louder than the EU recommended volume limit. Almost as if it would change something or bring him back. Bring him back to his frantically panicking friends, family and all those who knew him - even just through another tweet or anonymously through a missing persons charity. I just wanted them to be sent something, and I think we all did.
For two mornings I woke up and checked everywhere to see if anything had changed but all I saw was the developing search for a missing person near the Queensferry crossing, Edinburgh.
It was hard to keep hope, especially when lyrics in the back of my mind came to the forefront and rearranged themselves to tell the story of a man suffering from depression, who thought about suicide but stated: “I think I’ll save suicide for another day”.
Spanning twelve years and out for all to see in his lyrics, Scott was writing about himself and we all related in some way. He knew how it felt to hurt and wrote in such a way fans could connect with the lyrics and feel awful with him.
Every post I read, every new comment or tagged photo talked about how Scott put others feelings before himself. As a musician, he was friendly and down to earth and funny and relatable. He wasn’t a musician with an ego, although with five studio albums and worldwide adoration if he had one it would have been deserving.
I never got round to seeing Frightened Rabbit live. Although I adored them, I never made it to a gig. I’ve watched their live sets, listened to every album and EP, ready every interview and post they’ve been mentioned in and have a cut out from NME stuck to my wall - a photo of Scott with words on why you should catch them live.
Immortalised in video and MP3 files, Scott was able to make you feel human - your pain and upset normal and shared. You weren’t alone with it all.
And maybe that’s what makes older lyrics and his last tweets so haunting because even when he felt the way he did, his thoughts were still for others.
“And fully clothed, I’ll float away
(I’ll float away)
Down the Forth, into the sea
I think I’ll save my suicide for another day.”
This time his ‘another day’ didn’t come. This, sadly, was it.
I felt confused and uneasy the whole time, knowing everything the police were reporting was pointing towards the worst case scenario. So when the police confirmed they had found a body on the banks of the river, it all became true.
It isn’t just the Scottish music community that lost Scott, we all did. Frightened Rabbit did just lose their lead singer. The families and friends didn’t just lose a son, brother, cousin, best friend, relative etc. we all lost him.
People have talked about how they don’t know how to feel. Feeling as if they shouldn't mourning someone they never personally knew but at the same time, have lost someone who had an impact on their life.
We all lost Scott, whether we knew him personally or just as the lead singer of the band we knew, whose lyrics we could relate to. We’re allowed to feel confused and upset and hurt and not know what to do. How else are we supposed to react?
This is the time to mourn and this is the time to start talking about mental illness. The time to draw it out of the shadows and into the daylight, where the surrounding taboo leaves and the ability to talk about any illness openly without having the social pressure of it ‘not being okay to talk about’ when it actually is. Coinciding with the timing of our #MentalHealthAwarenessWeek posts, this is the time to start talking.
(This isn’t the usual type of post for this blog but there isn’t an obligation to stick to the usual. Also, with events like this, the only thing I can do is write.)
- Samantha
Editor of Shybutlovesmusic