Edinburgh singer: Mum's tragic death made me stronger to help others

At 22, life changed forever when Richard’s mother took her own life. At the time he was a member of local band The Remnant Kings. His music, he says, helped him through those darkest of times. The eldest of four boys, Rich, as he prefers to be called, grew up in Stenhouse but now lives in Calgery, Canada, where his current band, Free The Cynics, have just released their latest single, Copy of My Nightmares.

It’s a release that probably would have gone unnoticed here but for his younger brother Callum, who was determined that Rich would get the recognition he believes he deserves after he took care of his siblings in the wake of their mother's passing.

Which is how we come to be talking on opposite sides of the Atlantic. Now 36, Rich, who went to Longstone Primary, Balgreen Primary and Craigmount High, reflects that he enjoyed "a fairly happy childhood" in the Capital.

"I probably wasn't the favourite pupil of most of my teachers, but I got decent grades and have a lot of really fond memories of my childhood," he says, continuing, "Mum was a manager at the Spar in Carrick Knowe and worked 12 to 15 hours, sometimes more, every day, but we always had dinner made and, though we didn’t have a whole lot of money, she made sure my brothers and I were always fed, watered and clothed. Once I’d grown up a bit, I felt a lot of guilt around moaning when I was younger about not having the best trainers and clothes compared to some of my pals, but as I got older, I realised how hard she worked to provide for us - the work ethic she had was unreal."

Recalling his early years, Rich paints a picture to which many in the city will be able to relate.

"I did paper rounds, badly, played football at Saughton Park, not quite as badly, and got up to the usual mischief with my friends. I also ate my fair share of John Bain pies from Stenhouse Cross," he laughs.

"With three younger brothers, two of whom are twins, there was also a lot of splitting up fights and creating WWF wrestling arenas in our bedroom - it’s a miracle one of us didn’t end up with a broken neck from a wayward elbow drop."

In 2007 his world stopped when he was told that his mother has passed. “I was playing a gig in Glasgow and as I walked off stage I got a phone call from the police saying to come home straight away. Although they didn’t say why, I think I knew. I don’t know if I ever have really got over mum’s death. I’m not sure it’s possible to really get over such a loss and especially in those circumstances. I remember the shock and just feeling completely lost. Even now sometimes I still feel like it’s a bad dream, or that it hasn’t really happened and she’ll turn up with a wooden spoon in her hand making a massive batch of her home-made macaroni. Unfortunately, she never left the recipe behind."I found out a lot after mum died, she’d had a really tough life. She was a warrior and I feel really lucky and proud to have been raised by someone like her."When she died, I was incredibly lucky to have a big support network, especially my granddad, girlfriend at the time and friends who all rallied round. As the eldest I had a load of work to do, selling mum’s house, settling debts, funeral stuff... that kept me busy too. It was really difficult at 22 to help my younger brothers, but we did all we could at that time, though I always feel I could have done more.

"The twins, Callum and Kevin, were 18 at the time and my youngest brother Keith was 14, so it was really confusing for them and, looking back, I probably wasn’t well-equipped enough to take on supporting them properly when I was unable to really take care of myself."

As the family came to terms with the tragedy, it quickly became clear that fate had yet to finish dealing its hand, eight months after the death of his mum, Rich’s granddad, who he looked on as a father having never known his own dad, tragically drowned in the bath as a result of narcolepsy. Then in June 2008, a suicide attempt by his brother Kevin left him in need of permanent care.

"It really was hell on Earth and I still don’t know how we got through that," he admits. "I’m glad to say that Kev is doing pretty well and has come a long way from being in a coma for months and we have regular Skype calls from his care home where he’s brilliantly looked after by the staff."Looking back, there were definitely some really dark periods where things were too much and taking care of myself was pretty low on the priority list. I made a lot of bad decisions, self-harmed, used drink and drugs to ‘help’ and my own suicidal thoughts and plans began to take shape - I’m glad they didn’t come to fruition."

He reflects, "The feeling that, if you take your own life, those closest to you will actually be better off is an incredibly strong feeling when you’re in that position. A lot of people find that impossible to understand, which is a big problem. It’s why I’ve never been angry at mum; there were folk who had the attitude ‘How can a mother of four take her own life and do that to her kids?’ I understand that, but I know mum felt we were going to be better off, because her mindset at that time was so skewed and far from reality."

Throughout the heartbreak, his love of music and performing with The Remnant Kings, a band he had joined at 19, proved integral to getting Rich through those tragic times.

"I was always drawn to music. Mum always had music playing in the house with some really eclectic choices. Her favourites were The Carpenters, The Beatles, Kenny Rodgers and, oddly enough, Meatloaf. My granddad was a huge Dylan fan and as a 90’s kid, I was obsessed with Oasis."

Rich formed his first band, Purer Soul, while at school. "Worst band name ever," he laughs, "We played no gigs, just practiced after school in the music room at Craigmount. We had three songs, one was a cover of Paint It Black by The Stones, which was pretty dark stuff for 14 year olds to be getting into and now seems kind of ironic.

"I then got into Jeff Buckley, fell in love with his voice and I remember trying to match his vocal on Hallelujah from the Grace EP again and again until I could get even a little close to it. When I did, I realised I had a decent voice. When I moved in with my grandparents for a while at 18 I found Sgt Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club and Revolver in their spare room and played them on repeat for months, they totally blew me away.

"It’s a bit of a cliché, but music played a massive part in dealing with everything that happened, it was a go to source of comfort when I didn’t want to talk to anyone about how I was feeling."

He adds, "Sonic Youth’s cover of Superstar by The Carpenters is still almost impossible for me to listen to. It is my go to when I think of mum in my time alone, it feels like a connection with her still - her funeral song was On Top of the World - but it’s such a sad cover, so brilliantly done that it usually ends up with me being a blubbering mess, which is unfortunate for a big, hairy ugly crier like myself."

Despite the comfort music brought, it was the moment his best friend Scott asked him to be godfather to his son that proved the turning point, allowing him to push away his own thoughts of suicide.

"That was after I’d decided in my own head that I wasn’t going to keep going. That played a huge part, so again, I was very lucky. That’s what I now tell people who are in the same state of mind, it can get better, even though you are convinced there’s no way that it can."

He does accept, however, that it might not be as easy as it sounds, adding, "Asking for help or even just making it clear to someone that you need help is so difficult, especially for men, but it’s the most important thing we can do in that situation and can change everything. A text, or email, just any kind of reach out to someone can change everything. Something as simple as a ‘Meh’ when someone asks how you’re doing can lead to an important conversation that could end up helping long-term. It’s something we need to push all the time, especially to younger people and boys and men, though of course suicide isn’t a male-only issue."

Rich moved to Calgary in 2013 where he now lives with his wife Lauren and volunteers on the crisis lines at Distress Centre Calgary, the only 24/7, 365 days-a-year crisis line in Canada.

"My wife Lauren and I host an annual fundraiser for the Centre, so far we’ve raised almost $50,000 due to the generosity of the community there and also friends and family in Edinburgh," he says, before admitting, "I still feel a lot of guilt for moving to Canada, but my brothers are very supportive of that decision and they love Lauren, who is Calgary born and raised, so that makes it easier."

He formed Free the Cynics in 2015, delivering a mixed bag of "energetic indie rock’n’roll with splashings of blues, pop, rock and everything in between," and although his life experiences can't help but influence his songwriting, he admits he is wary on drawing too much on his past.

"We’ve been lucky enough to do a few tours, including coming back to Scotland in 2018, which was a blast,” he says, “And we released our third album, Diogenes, last November. I’m always a little wary of writing about what’s happened, as it’s hard without sounding a little attention-seeking, but it does creep in every now and then. The Note, a song on our first album Showtunes From the Basement is all about mum dying and the effect that had on me. I think I managed not to make it too ‘poor me’, which is always a worry. I lost Mum’s suicide note after only reading it once, which is obviously a massive regret as I only remember a very small part of it, so that is referenced in that song, but it’s kind of a song to mum, who can never tell me that she didn’t like it, so you know, every cloud..."

He concludes, "Even today I have times where I can’t really stop thinking about what happened but Lauren is an absolute tower of strength and can generally tell when things aren’t going so well. I’m at a point now that I can speak pretty openly about mum and everything else without getting too upset, which I’ve found really helps me and others in my life who are perhaps going through similar things.

He adds, "Distress Centre Calgary gives an option to people who feel they can’t bring up a subject like suicide with friends and family and I know there are similar organisations in Edinburgh. I’d urge everyone to check out their local crisis line and donate if they’re able to, whether that be with time or a few pounds.”

Free The Cynics releases can be found on Spotify, ITunes, Google Play and Youtube

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