An intimate set of songs that turn pain into hope and daily rituals into grace.
Having feared he might never play guitar again, Amit Dattani has produced a meditative and uplifting album which has the effect of the world’s most gentle tattooist: it can get under your skin and leave its mark, but you might not even notice it happening. Dattani’s musical style is based on the sound of a plucked guitar, and this gentle approach permeates the album. It might be best appreciated in Dattani’s cover of Bob Dylan’s ‘One Too Many Mornings’: Dattani manages to weave an extra dimension in the looping sound of his guitar work, which supports the message of the song.
There is a lot of joy in the album, but it also touches on the painful and difficult. Album opener, ‘Wrong Kind of One’, for example, is contemplative but also mournful and subtly defiant. The song is a voice from the margins – an individual, or perhaps a whole community, displaced, misunderstood and treated as the “other”. It draws a sharp contrast between how refugees are perceived – “unwelcome”, “wrong kind of one” – and who they truly are – “someone’s son and someone’s daughter”. “I’m a moth in the night/But I see butterflies, in your hallway” captures the contrast between the speaker’s perceived value and the hopeful vision they hold – and offers a fragile hope, a beauty amidst exile.
Next up is a cover of an old traditional song, ‘Make Me Down a Pallet on Your Floor’, which feels like a thoughtful follow-up – a connection to folk tradition, travellers and the tired, wandering soul in search of rest. This is followed by the warm, vulnerable but ultimately hopeful ‘Steady the Boat’. “In the morning, it comes easy/Like a river, straight to the chest/So I’ll breathe deep and lean into glory/And walk down the stairs with the rest”, the song begins, setting the tone of hope. Musically, the song is slow and beautifully simple, and there’s almost a sense of being on a boat that has been steadied and is floating calmly: strength has been found through resilience.
There are a number of musical tracks on the album, including ‘Gathering Acorns’, inspired by Dattani watching his son and it feels like a document of love and wonder. These wash over you and are easy to get lost in.
Two songs in the middle of the album, ‘Golden Days’ and ‘Now I Can Play On’, capture the essential joy and simple awe of the album. The former is a song about Dattani’s son and considers daily adventure, the pleasure of watching him grow and the preciousness of time. The recurring line “And the world stops spinning, while you’re sleeping” becomes the song’s emotional anchor, and “Hand in hand, we’re a marching band/Singing songs we’ve borrowed” is a beautiful image of parent and child simply being together. ‘Now I Can Play On’ is a celebratory song, which also manages to be reflective and poetic. This is a song about healing through music, regaining agency, and reclaiming a creative voice. The line “Got a thinner set of wires, so now I can play on” provides a literal detail – new guitar strings – yet is metaphorically rich: sometimes you need to adapt in order to be creative. The song closes a circle – it’s a statement of creative persistence and gratitude, echoing themes from ‘Steady the Boat’ and ‘Golden Days’.
Dattani has produced an album of gentle strength. Even when exploring pain or displacement, the tone remains human, warm and reflective – not bitter or cynical. There’s a spiritual humility in the writing, grounded in imagery of nature, daily rituals and family bonds. The songs don’t shout – they listen, linger and quietly endure.
