“I'm in the arch of the church

Between her thumb and her forefinger

I'm a worshipper

A zealot king, cursed, a devotee

Of the heady golden dance she does

She's an uncut drug

Find the vein and the pulse

Chased it and for a minute I was floating dead above myself.”

Certain lyrics stick with you. Scott Hutchison’s lyrics on “Get Out”, from their 2016 album Painting of a Panic Attack, stuck. They are breathtaking in their stark beauty and the sincerity of Hutchison’s delivery, low and keening and with that distinct Scottish burr, before the rousing burst of the chorus: “Get out of my heart/She won’t, she won’t.”

Hutchison’s words were always beautiful, even if the subject was ugly. He would often bluntly pin the awkward clumsiness of a sexual encounter (“You won’t find love in a hole/It takes more than f**king someone to keep yourself warm”) that could still inspire a mass singalong.

Frightened Rabbit established themselves upon their formation in 2003 with these anthems of heartbreak, hangovers and hurt; breaking through with The Midnight Organ Fight in 2008. Early on, Hutchison had tried writing in more of an abstract way, as characters, but found it tough to develop.

“The best way I find to get the correct level of detail in the lyrics is to – whether the lead character is me – to have a basis of the subject within my own life,” he told DIY in an interview. “I need to know the story better than anyone else for it to sound genuine.”

He had a difficult time in LA, where Painting of a Panic Attack was written; finding he was out of step with the size of the place; more used to walking down the road in Edinburgh or Glasgow and bumping into a mate, or 10.

Speaking to The Independent in 2016 with Aaron Dessner of The National, who produced Painting, Hutchison explained how he found the experience of writing in LA on Painting “isolating”, but did enjoy writing trips to Big Bear Lake, which is around two hours north east of LA.

Of closer “’Die Like a Rich Boy’ Dessner said the song has, “for me, some of the strongest lyrical content I've heard in many years; an epic love song laced with dark imagery and acerbic social criticism”.

“On the surface it's a simple folk song, but its structure, arc and dynamics, and the long “Die Like a Rich Boy” chorus, capture so much with so little,” Dessner continued. “It's the last song on the record but to me the most moving and without a doubt one of the best songs I've been fortunate enough to play a part in capturing.”

Asked whether he might explore the overarching landscape in Painting on future projects, Hutchison replied (and you could hear the dry wit in his tone over email) – “I would love to pursue one of those ‘concepts’ to a more conclusive place, but it’s about choosing the right platform to do so. Maybe I could tackle it in a stage musical or something. Ha!”

He was funny in that classic, self-deprecating way that Scots truly excel at, remarking in one interview that he felt the pub was essential because drinking “opens me up and I’m a closed-off Scottish bastard.”

Four years ago he played a gig under his other musical project Owl John - at Oslo in Hackney - where he was peer-pressured into downing a Jägerbomb by hundreds of rowdy fans. He looked temporarily unsure if he could keep it down. “That’s not nice at all,” he said wryly. Everyone cheered – he laughed.

Hutchison poured himself into those words, providing some kind of catharsis for himself, maybe, and certainly comfort for the countless fans who heard them and knew they weren’t alone. And those words remain as his fans, friends, family, struggle to come to terms with this grief at his death - and I hope that Hutchison still knew at the end that he was loved, so very much, by so many.