I Am Kloot’s dark domestic drama Twist illustrates John Bramwell’s gift as one of Britain’s greatest living singer-songwriters.

It was while watching John Bramwell perform the other night that I realised I’d never posted one of his songs with I Am Kloot. They were my favourite band and I must have seen them more than a dozen times – up there with Bowie and Suede in my “most watched” list.

I vividly remember the first time I heard them, on a very late, very snowy night with Sophie Williams and her boyfriend Pete in her Shoreditch flat.

She put on this song and asked me what I thought. She wouldn’t say who it was by and I told her I thought it sounded like People Are Strange by The Doors – but that was OK because I loved that song.

“That’s not very nice,” she said. “This is Pete’s band.” “Well,” I quickly pivoted, “It’s only the bass that sounds like that.” She paused before replying: “Pete is the bass player.”
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Then Pete, who turned out to be one of the loveliest people I’ve ever met – and is now a good friend – languidly observed that it was true. And we all had another drink.

So now I’ve probably heard the dysfunctional domestic drama of Twist hundreds of times and its opening lines never ever cease to cast their emotional spell over me.

“Twisted on destiny, fate and three wishes / We fuck and we fight, someone else does the dishes / Meantime my memory reminisces, and twists.”

It’s such a sad song, and it goes into a dark place: “There was a time when we were filled with laughter / Haplessly hoping happy ever after / Did we string up a heart, let it swing from the rafters / And bleed.”

It’s the bathos of the punchline that does it every time. And that’s before we come to the chorus, as dark and dangerous as any you’ve heard: “There’s blood on your legs / I love you.”