Live Reviews

Kicking off proceedings tonight are Mountain Man who play songs mostly from their new albun Made The Harbor. The all girl group engage the audience enough and hush the Queens Hall. They are supporting Jonsi at the Academy in Glasgow on the 5th of September and are well worth getting down early for.

Next up Avi Buffalo take to the stage looking every bit the headline act with tracks from their recently self titled debut album. Confidence evident and quirky interactions with the crowd, they are quickly elevated from support act status to firm favourite amongst the rapidly growing crowd

The benefit of playing to the more mature crowd that The Low Anthem have pulled tonight is clear when the band are greeted with unusual hushed appreciation during their quieter moments.

Avi Buffalo will inevitably become known for the vocal delivery of frontman, Avi. His strained, almost-but-not-quite falsetto at times echoes Neil Young. Disapproving murmurings between songs quickly disappear as Avi Buffalo win over a lot of new fans tonight. It won’t be long until we see them back in a headlining role.

The beautiful Queens Hall is the perfect setting for a band such as The Low Anthem. The room is full early and the anticipation is palpable. Rapturous applause greets them as they take to the stage and without a word launch straight into a haunting rendition of ‘To The Ghosts Who Write History Books’.

The Low Anthem are expert in using space in their music. A trembling drone is at times the only accompaniment to Ben Know Miller’s delicately delivered vocals.

‘Ticket Taker’ follows and leaves the crowd deathly silent. Every creak of the floorboards is heard throughout before a huge dynamic shift to joyful cheers. It’s a stunning opening to the set and the band don’t show any signs of letting the hushed excitement drop as they work their way through a set comprised mostly of tracks from last year’s breakthrough, Oh My God, Charlie Darwin.

The Low Anthem exude vintage style, from their dress, instrumentation and even down to their intro music (The Band, naturally), they have put together a genuine experience for their fans. Flowing through plaintive ballads and flailing-arm bar room dance songs, The Low Anthem will surely grow to an even bigger audience.

Seeing the full band huddled round a solitary microphone singing ghostly harmonies to end their set with ‘Charlie Darwin’ is a classic image. The Low Anthem is a band not necessarily of their time, but with performances like tonight they’re definitely writing their own way into the history books.

Words: Euan Robertson
Pics: rokbun

Dressed in his trademark boiler suit Mr E cuts an odd figure on the stage, and that’s before you even take in the enormity of his beard. However, his slightly strange image makes him the perfect front man of what can only be described as a slightly strange band.

Taking the stage alone and bathed in a deep blue light, Mr E seemed to set the tone for the night with a mournful song of lost love, but after thoroughly depressing the audience the band quickly brought them back up with some rollicking new tunes full of howls of desire, lust and anger. Embodying the chaotic spirit of the ‘hombre loco’ of their previous album, the band reworked classics such as ‘I Like Birds’ to take on a hard rock-n-roll edge that got the crowd jumping. One of the most enjoyable tracks of the night was a growling cover of the jazz-pop ‘Summer in the City‘ by Joe Johnson, the innocuous lyrics transformed into a sensuous and disturbing snarl that could send shivers down your spine.

I have seen Eels once before about three years back, and the concert was entirely different. Different in set up; in the number of band members; in tone; in feel; in atmosphere. Eels are true musical inventors - able to transform themselves from the sad and the lonely to the terrifyingly upbeat to the violently sexy.
With a new album out, End Times, Eels are currently touring Europe. Their next UK date is in London on the 1st September.

Words: Claire Cameron
Pics: Bart Photography

Edinburgh’s beautiful Picturehouse is absolutely jam-packed. For the sizeable crowd (composed primarily of bohemian 20-somethings) it is a hot and sticky affair. The atmosphere is welcoming and amiable. The inevitable jostling for the best views is conducted with the utmost decorum and politeness. Three or four rows of jolly spectators merrily fall into line around each balcony in a smart but courteous fashion. Put simply, it becomes obvious from an early stage that one needn’t worry about having one’s quiff ruined by a randomly thrown pint this evening.

Richard Youngs (don’t forget the “s”) strides on stage and briefly introduces himself. He slaps a large book, presumably containing lyrics/poetry, on a lectern and then launches into a pensive and highly experimental set. His music has a meditative, tantric quality about it. It is filled with repetitive, almost ritualistic chanting that makes the title of his most recent album, 2005’s The Naïve Shaman, all the more appropriate. The crowd give him a hearty reception.

The Picturehouse reaches boiling point in the few minutes before Beirut is due on stage. Excited bleats and hollers ring out from large pockets of the assembled masses in eager anticipation of the outfit’s imminent arrival.

The lights dim and an almighty roar shakes the rafters. The audience smashes its hands together in time with the accordion in ‘Nantes’, one of many songs that owe their origins to Zach Condon’s arrant Francophilia and penchant for all things European.

Considering Condon’s affinity for the old world, it is little wonder that an array of kooky instruments litters the stage. Each and every one is put to full use. This commitment to an authentic sound, like their dedication to powerfully simple core melodies, is central to the uniquely gloomy, yet strangely child-like sense of intrigue that enshrouds them.

They come across like a group of wandering bards and minstrels with a wealth of rich tales to recount. All of them, especially accordionist Perrin Cloutier, are dervishes of raw energy onstage. They effortlessly freewheel through their set, often at a slightly lower tempo than in their studio recordings. Highlights include ‘Mount Wroclai‘, ‘Scenic World’, ‘Cherbourg’ and ‘Postcards From Italy’.   The crowd, more than content to be along for the ride, simply bask in the music and its stirring and evocative messages.

I can feel myself getting starry eyed like an excited schoolgirl when the first few chords of ‘Elephant Gun’ sound on the ukulele. Scarcely a single member of the crowd is able to remain still as the squawk of brass bursts out and sets the song about its gleeful swing.

The last few bars paint a euphoric picture of a carousel from some kind of rose- tinted dream. From my position on the topmost balcony, I glimpse a couple dancing a mirthful polka to them in a mood of gay abandon. The crowd’s reaction to Beirut’s outstanding set is deafening and for their troubles they are treated to not one, but two encores including the uplifting ‘Carousels‘ before closing with with ‘Gulag Orkestar’ . It is a fitting ending to what can only be described as a genuinely special evening.

Words: Neale McDonald
Pics: rokbun

Withered Hand, aka Dan Wilson, quite obviously has a following. His debut album Good News has a solid four star rating across the board and being a part of Fence Records almost guarantees you a large crowd in Edinburgh. So, it is with some anticipation and expectation that he and his friends take to the stage in a packed Electric Circus tonight.

Withered Hand takes the stage, with the backup of collaborators: Neil Pennycook, Hannah Shepherd and Alun Thomas. After a comic stint (it is the Fringe folks!) involving Wilson’s glasses and Pennycook’s hat they launch into ‘I am Nothing’.

Then sound issues become instantly noticeable: the balance is tinny, the drums seem to overpower everything and the vocals struggle to get through. It’s unclear whether the band realise this but from their demeanour they all look uncomfortable cowering on what looks like a shrinking stage. We later find out that both Wilson and Pennycook are suffering from colds (“there are no refunds”) and that Wilson himself is struggling with the awful sound of his electric guitar; he takes to apologising between songs and struggling to fiddle with his amp.

It’s not all bad though, first single ‘Religious Songs’ gets a rapturous applause as does ‘No Cigarettes’ and the melodic ‘Cornflake’ is a stand out. Indeed the quieter songs seem to battle through the terrible sound mix to engage the crowd. Pennycook is not officially a part of this act (he heads up his own band Meursault) however, his backing vocals really compliment Wilson’s and give the songs the added depth they need. This isn’t as noticeable on the recordings but here in a live setting it is vital.

About half way through Pennycook leaves the stage to let the others finish the set and it is clear that the crowd are struggling with the sound just as much as Wilson is. At one point he tells the crowd to “shut the %^&* up and they might hear something”, then later he quips that “without Neil we are falling apart up here”.

In some ways both statements are true but the main issue tonight is the venue. There is minimal lighting on the stage, the stage itself is tiny, the sound is dreadful and the positioning of the stage means the crowd snake away around a corner to the bar; meaning they chat and drink, as oppose to watching.

Withered Hand is clearly better than the showing tonight and hopefully it won’t be too long before we can see him playing somewhere that won’t stifle his lyrical wonder with such bad sound.

Words: Neil Rolland
pics: Brian Vass

Playing on Friday the 13th may make the knees of any superstitious musician quake. However, when your music itself is bathed in superstition and the remnant echoes of natural disaster, Friday the 13th is a day to celebrate what you have created.

’What on earth are you talking about?’ I hear you cry. Hendrik Weber AKA Pantha du Prince plays a blistering set of tracks from latest album Black Noise, an album recorded out in the wilderness of the French Alps next to a site that years previously had been home to a small village destroyed by a landslide.

Weber’s fascination with Black Noise, (a spectrum of noise inaudible to humans yet audible to animals often preceding natural catastrophes) and the seemingly impossible task of rendering the unheard into music makes his live show unnervingly vibrant. Crackling and whirring his way through an epic hour and thirty minutes of analogue baselines, clanging bells and layered drum programming, it’s akin to watching a mad scientist breathe life into a new baby monster.

Weber twists and pulls at buttons on numerous machines, and at one point he dips a glass wand into half a pint of water to produce a magical glowing sound. Two tracks in and the walls of the Captain’s Rest are perspiring with every electronic beat. Onstage Weber’s enchanting musical landscape seems to turn the small dingy basement into a living organ, a sonic lung of rumbling house and clanging folk melancholy.

What’s so interesting about this live performance is the way it is delivered. From behind his mechanical fortress Weber uses the venue’s own PA as his instrument, turning on and off speakers at various intervals so that on one brief occasion on ‘Satellite Sniper’ the only output is a single monitor.

The contrast this creates when the song kicks in and Weber unleashes a volley of electronic bullets and ethereal xylophone has the Glasgow crowd dancing themselves into a sweaty pulp. ‘Stick to My Side’, which features vocals from Animal Collective’s Noah Lennox (AKA Panda Bear), is a catchy radio friendly deep house beast that would have Theo Parrish running to the hills. Whereas ‘Bohemian Forest‘ is brimming with so much glittering percussion it makes Hot Chip sound like kids at playschool hammering on a plastic xylophone.

However, it’s the gurgling bass laden ‘Behind the Stars’ that gets the most whoops from the crowd. After a mammoth session which leaves the sweaty crowd gasping for air, there can be no doubt that Pantha Du Prince can be hailed as interesting, intelligent avant-garde dance royalty, even if it is just Black Noise.

Words: Angela Canavan

A stage full of mics, strange instruments and a line-up consisting of some heroes from the Scottish music scene. This promised to be an entertaining night and as the venue fills, so does the anticipation. With only a DJ for support, everyone is here to see the same people.

The Burns Unit, a super group of musicians of enviable reputations were formed during a song writing retreat back in 2006 called ‘Burnsong‘. They come from various backgrounds, with numerous awards and surprisingly cool collaborations under their belts. Their increasingly highly rated debut album Side Show is on sale now but opportunities to see them don’t turn up very often.

The set is extremely varied beginning with 90’s feel good, indie pop before going into songs which draw their influence from Indian and celtic persuasions. Conventional ballads are present but this is thrown in with tracks which wouldn’t look out of place in the Phantom of the Opera. Eclectic is not even the word, and these clearly talented musicians perform with great skill and confidence, demonstrating a myriad of tones and sounds. However, as a coherent band The Burns Unit may well have a way to go. Their musicianship is flawless but you feel the passion and depth that these musicians demonstrate on their own work is somewhat lacking.

However, this is not to say there isn’t a positive edge to the performance, one of the many front-men, Canadian Michael Johnston, adds a delightful chunk of theatrical eccentricity to the whole evening, dancing and conversing with the crowd the way only our cousins from the other side of the water can. Towards the end of the evening, Kim Edgar and Karine Polwart shine as the group strip down to a more suited celtic sound. The band’s vocals work fantastically well in this environment and with at some points five singers on the go it acts as one of the most impressive features of the show. However, the highlight of the night belongs to MC Soom T, who’s flawless, smooth vocals add a genuine ethnicity to the show.

The Burns Unit are evidently skilled and for the novelty of fantastic talent rarely seen together in the same place, maybe the hype behind these individuals is so great that you might feel let down by the final product, live at least.

Words: Paul Massie
Pic: Gordon Ballantyne

Liars have been very consistent in quality since forming 10 years ago, and while touring perhaps their most critically acclaimed release to date, Sisterworld, Stereo is dumbfounded at how tonight’s show has undersold.

Tonight’s support comes from Glasgow’s awesome Milk, who we reviewed in full at the Captain’s Rest last month.

By the time Liars take the stage, it is clear the now swelling, but not quite capacity, crowd are all here to catch to Brooklyn based trio, bolstered to a five-piece for this evening’s performance.

Draped in smoke and green light tonight’s heroes emerge. Frontman Angus Andrew strikes an imposing figure, but as his uniquely expressionate stage antics kick in a confidence fills the room; they are watching a band at the height of their game.

Advancing into the powerful ‘Scarecrows on a Killer Slant’ the band look in their stride. Andrew then expels a more touching side announcing they’ll play a track he wrote while staying in Glasgow but they don’t play live often, before moving into the almost heartfelt murder ballad ‘Scissor‘ which explodes into full on noise-punk.

Liars aren’t afraid to show off their more humorous side as Aaron Hemphill, on synth and guitar duties, jokes with a crowd member sporting Wu-Tang Clan merch. Displaying his knowledge of Wu-Tang Hemphill jibes at his favourite album is Wu-Tang Forever stating: “I’m not posing man, I read both books.”

The heat in the Stereo basement rises throughout the set, but Andrew keeps up his passionate dazed dances as the band power through Sisterworld tracks ‘No Barrier Fun‘, ‘Here Comes All the People‘ and ‘The Overachievers’.

Perhaps the standout of the night comes from 2007’s self-titled album in the form of ‘Clear Island’. The track’s throbbing keyboards and chanting lyrics have even the questionable fan nodding along.

Performances of old and new favourites like ‘The Other Side of Mt. Heart Attack‘ and ‘Proud Evolution‘ only go further to demonstrate the band’s appeal. However, it is when they emerge as just a trio for the encore that the crowd really takes the show by the scruff of the neck, as chants of “blood” rain down on Stereo during an engrossing version of ‘Broken Witch’.

Liars may not have managed to fill out Stereo this time, but their disco vibed punk continues to capture the ears and imagination of everyone in attendance. As the word gets out and with their ever-growing popularity, we will surely see them playing a bigger venue next time around.

Words: Iain Dawson
Pics: Usman Malik

Walking through the doors of the newly reopened Liquid Rooms, the first thing that hits you is the smell of fresh paint (they’ve gone for a deep purple colour) but once inside it looks like very little has changed. A new lighting rig maybe and perhaps the décor has been tweaked but thankfully the layout is exactly the same and unless you knew already there’s nothing to suggest that this venue faced serious threat of closure after being completely devastated by a fire back in December 2008.

Kicking us off tonight was last minute support act Harper Simon, who just so happens to be Paul Simon’s son, and who also gets his merchandise designed by one Britartist, Tracy Emin. But these grand associations shouldn’t be held against him. Simon holds his own, solitary on stage, just him and his guitar. He is a fusion of country, folk and pop; Simon and Garfunkel crossed with Bob Dylan. Indeed his nasally drawl on opening number ‘Tennessee’ could easily be a Dylan track from the sixties, and instantly wins over a section of the crowd. A cover of The Buzzcocks’ ‘Ever Fallen in Love’ is cut short by a technical fault but we are soon back up and running. Simon plays a couple of more tracks before thanking the crowd, most of who have no idea of his heritage and he makes no boasts about it either.

The room is then packed to bursting with a noisy crowd waiting for headliners Stornoway to take to the stage. The band is greeted by rapturous applause opening with single ‘I Saw You Blink’. Although from Oxford (and not Stornoway), singer Brian Briggs has a Scottish twang to his voice that evokes a young King Creosote.

As they continue with their set, one thing becomes apparent; the packed out audience like Stornoway but the band don’t yet hold the power to silence the crowd between songs or even during them. The volume of chatter during the quiet moments in the songs is downright rude and overshadows what is a very accomplished set by the relevant newcomers. As a band they are as tight as a nut, their folk pop meanders from acoustic build up to a percussion/keyboard/trumpet fusion that creates a tremendous wall of noise.

Stand out tracks included the thumbing ‘Watching Birds’ and first single ‘Zorbing’, which seems to be the track the rumpus crowd were waiting for. They save the best ‘til last with a genius turn in silencing the crowd. The encore consists of one track played completely acoustically with the PA turned off. The crowd are telling each other to shush, while we were treated to a beautiful very intimate rendition of ‘We Are The Battery Human’.

Stornoway have the talent to play much bigger venues and hopefully they will gain the respect of the crowd as they advance in their career so that their music can be appreciated, as it should be.

Words: Neil Rolland
Pics: Rokbun

Despite initial sound issues this year’s Electric Frog micro-festival offers Glasgow the opportunity to mix the old with the new, the well established with fresh local talent and more prominently forced half of Glasgow to wake up on a Monday with more than just a fuzzy head.

Handpicked local darlings such as Billy Woods (Supermax), Craig Moogrooves (Kitty Kat Klub) and Simon Cordiner (Melting Pot) who have established themselves with their respective club nights play a great mix of 80’s disco in the Street Party Room, managing to keep the damp weather at bay.

Leave it to Glasgow’s loved purveyors of punk disco Optimo then to convince 80’s seminal post punk operatives Liquid Liquid out of retirement and back on stage. Optimo who took their name from Liquid Liquid’s eponymous song and EP of the same name, warm the crowd with their infectious brand of electro tricks before the seminal New York punks take the stage. Tearing through a crowd-pleasing back catalogue of hits such as ‘Bellhead’ and ‘Dig We Must’ showcase the groups funk, dub and reggae inspired disco at its best. A short interruption to the set, due to issues with the monitors, prompts lead singer Sal Principato to promise the crowd he would continue to sing, even if he didn’t know what he was singing. The band then lurch into the xylophone and bass laden ‘Optimo’ and ‘Cavern’ which have the crowd foaming at the mouth.

The next live set comes from German duo Alter Ego who, after a minor glitch, launch into ‘Jolly Joker’ forcing the Optimo tent to raise their hands in the air and dance until their feet bleed. Roman and Jorn who have dedicated themselves to techno, electro and pop over the years are alluring to watch, twisting and turning a dazzling display of knobs and buttons in what seems to be a frugal manner to produce some catchy techno hooks. Tracks such as ‘Why Not’, ‘Tubeaction’ and ‘Beat the Bush’ produce such an almighty clang that the whole tent reverberates with every simulated electronic beat. However, it was the duo’s hit ‘Joker’ that literally has people running towards the stage to dance.

Felix da Housecat, who plays his set to a somewhat sweaty crowd in the Sensu Warehouse, normally reserved for raves and art exhibitions, proves to be a crowd pleaser. The legendary Chicago producer plays an upbeat set full of classic house gems.

Headliners Simian Mobile Disco closes proceedings to a packed out Optimo Marque. The production and remix team comprised of James Ford and Jas Shaw, originally of indie outfit Simian, play a blistering live set of electro-house hits. Playing with a mountain of technical gear that saw the pair switched from playing laptops to keyboards with a fair amount of switches being fondled in between. Taking a diverse mix of tracks from albums Attack Decay Sustain Release and Temporary Pleasure the pair manage to reduce the Glasgow crowd to a sweaty pulp. Sing along tracks such as ‘Hustler’, ‘It’s the Beat’ and ‘I Believe’ have the crowd crooning the lyrics at a deafening roar. While electro-house fuelled hits such as ‘Tits and Acid’ and ‘Audicity of Huge’ prove the London duo as one of the most interesting acts of the moment.

Shaw says he feels tracks from upcoming album Delicacies & Delicatessen gained a popular reaction from the Glasgow crowd. The album sees the pair leaning towards their more techno-based influences is to feature tracks named after popular food dishes from around the globe.

Graffiti art, face painting and space reserved for installations prove the Electric Frog, in it’s more popular second year, has more to offer than just sizzling beats. It can be difficult to get a good few hundred Glaswegian punters dancing, especially outside in the drizzle on a Sunday afternoon, but the Frog succeeds in a grand fashion. Spectacular.

Word: Angela Canavan
Pics: Zul Bhatia and Anita Russo (as labeled)

Toro Y Moi is the stage name for, 23-year-old, ‘chillwave’ artist Chaz Brundwick.  Originally a bedroom brainchild of Brundwick while he played in South Carolina’s The Heist and The Accomplice, Toro Y Moi’s first album, Causers of This, has come out to bask in the same electro rays showered upon Animal Collective or Ariel Pink.

At the Captain’s Rest Toro Y Moi appear as Brundwick buried beneath a heap of keyboards, leads and echo effects supported a live bassist and drummer.  The trio nonchalantly set about creating the lo-fi, poppy soundscapes associated with this crossbreed of electronica and Americana.

Though Causers of This, as an album, places its heart far closer to RnB, Dubstep or Broken Beats than most artists in the genre, through the way Brundwick’s ambient electronics play out over the concise yet complex beat and rhythm of the bass and drums.  In this way, Toro Y Moi live has more in common with the likes of Bonobo and other UK artists from Tru Thoughts or Ninja Tunes.

There is also a definite vein of straight up dance running through the gig, peaking with tracks like ‘Low Shoulders’ and ‘Talamak’, and despite the slight sense of endurance brought by the asphyxiation of the Rest on a busy night, the crowd wakes up and snaps out of their spacey sway. Causers of This, regardless of how you classify it, is strong debut as it subtly mixes a myriad of influences from the last 30 years and comes out with a catch and coherent sound of its own.

However, some of this is lost in the translation live, perhaps it’s the silky production that holds the album together.  Still, the solid performance from the two session musicians cover for this and allow
Brundwick’s pop melodies and melancholy chord progressions to shine through.

Words: Steven Penman
Pics: Innes Morrison

Upon arrival at Tut’s, it is clear that this leg of the Summer Nights showcases is a bit special. A large crowd gather in the bar beforehand, all check shirted and beardy, it seemed like the majority of the Glasgow folk pop scene had ascended on the 20 year old venue.

Augmented by not one but two fiddlers, Rachel Sermanni opens proceedings with a set of encapsulating acoustic majesty. Resplendent in white against her darker clothed band, Sermanni stands out for all the right reasons. Her delicately crafted songs are offset by atmospheric percussion and keys and her overall likeability soars as her set goes on.

Following a brief interlude, Washington Irving treat the crowd to some ceilidh-esque pop. Frontman Joe Black, with the face of a 12 year old adorned with the kind of bumfluff that only 12 year olds dream of leads his band through a host of the best folky pop around. The prominence of their flautist gives them an edge where the job of a lead guitar would not do justice. At times it felt the flute lines are crying out for a solo of the Rainbow theme tune, none more so on the Belle and Sebastian-like “Dear Liza”. The refrain of “there’s a hole in my stomach, there’s a hole in my stomach” gives way to a rhythmic, repeated chant, before bursting in to a fiddle driven mash of guitar, bass, drums and vocals, as the crowd pogo along.

For what had already been stated as a sell out show, there was a slight crowd swell when The Seventeenth Century take to the stage. With violin in hand, and hair draped over his face, vocalist Mark Farmer’s beguiling look does not distract from the music. Instead, it adds a certain amount of hutzpah to the performance, where his locks thrashed around in echo of his bow, his voice wailing but not quite snarling when needed and sounding ethereal the rest of the time.

After a stellar evening, the skies are well and truly reached, not least by the behemoth of a man who strides on stage to front headliners French Wives. Stuart Dougan’s forehead is constantly in peril of bashing the stage roof, as he and his band rattle through some of the finest pop songs Tut’s has witnessed. Whether swopping electric guitars for acoustic or just taking the mic, Dougan exudes the confidence that his songs allow him. A sparkling cover of Orange Juice’s “BlueBoy” finds the Wives at ease while having fun with other’s songs. Another band employing a female fiddler, their Strokes-ey sound has a country tinge, perhaps succeeding in its use where the like of The Holloways don’t quite. The spiky lead guitar, brings the punk, where the fiddle and acoustic bring the folk, in turn cementing the whole ensemble together. This could very well be your new favourite band. A magnificent set is brought to an end with powerful latest single ‘Me v. Me’ (best listend to after a heavy night on the lash!) The response to this is a mass singalong of it’s disparate yell of “my body’s giving up on me”, which is perhaps true by the time it comes around.

Walking back down those 20 name dropping stairs at almost midnight, it fells like Tut’s had perhaps found it’s class of 2010.

Words: Kris Jack
Pics: Warrick Beyers

Tonight’s headliner, Wild Nothing , is the latest act to be labeled ‘dream pop’ that has set eyes a sparkling the world over, fans and critics alike.

The solo project of Virginia born Jack Tatum, tonight performing as a four-piece, visits Glasgow for the first time, promoting debut album Gemini. Support tonight comes from Glasgow’s own Barn Owl, who treat us to calm wave of a set. The five-piece seem confident in their groove but outside of it the nerves look apparent. Despite this the twinkling of a xylophone and the occasion tune reminiscent of laid back Los Campesinos! the band form a delightful opener.

Tonight there is surprisingly room to move in Rest, which is odd considering the hype Wild Nothing has been receiving and the tiny venue. Still, the relatively few in attendance are treated a shy yet refined performance courtesy of this talented young man, who is continually gaining a deserved recognition.

The clattering of ‘Chinatown’ opens the set on an upbeat tone before Tatum drags us into a deep yet dreamy sulk, so brilliantly captured by this genres best, who Wild Nothing is among. The beautiful album opener ‘Live in Dreams’ forms a stand out of the set as Tatum sings “that’s exactly why I’d rather live in dreams and I rather die” and the crowd grows ever closer to the glazed swagger evoked by he constant rhythm of Tatum’s backing.

Then the glaze is blasted open as the most danceable beat of the night hits the floor, as Tatum and co hit into arguably the albums most pop track ‘Bored Games’. Tatum keeps the high ground and ends the set on an optimistic point with current single and almost twee delight ‘Summer Holiday’.

The shy frontman leaves us on an apology, firstly for not being the most talkative onstage, this he is instantly forgiven, and once again as the crowd chants for more he shyly announces that they had this
last night but they have no more songs.

Wild Nothing may not be dripping with the pop sensibilities that the more popular members of this scene embody, however, both live and record he has is a gem which will be cherished by many who have taken this scene to heart.

Words: Iain Dawson