The Next Big Thing

I did the Glasvegas thing and with that particular itch scratched I can get on with my life. You’ll recall that the album knocked me out. I know some of you are shaking your heads at this point but stick with it (as The Quattros would say).

It’s almost a year ago since I was last in the hallowed environs of The Barrowlands. For The Proclaimers with Wreckless Eric. Opening tape was good to middling, Righteous Brothers, Danny and The Juniors, Dion and the Belmonts, would have been nice to hear a wee bit of Suicide in there just to wet the whistle but anyway. For one fleeting moment when they burst through the intro to “Flowers and Fitba’ Tops” I felt the majesty of the record, a good ripple if not exactly a wave.

However from there it all went a little awry. My favourite thing about them – the drum sound – was intact but I’d like to hear a little more Tony James and a little less of The Edge. Actually, there was enough dry ice to make Andrew Eldritch proud in there tonight and the place went sort of ballistic but not quite. There was plenty of beer flying around but the audience was way less Oasis-like than I expected. This is good I guess but if you ask me “Go Square Go” was no match for The Proclaimers “I’m On My Way”. I remember being out front with Amy Rigby when they played that and the floor action was way more seismic. As they finished their short set, there was virtually no reaction. It was as if their parishioners had ejaculated collectively and altogether prematurely. I imagine that they came back out and did “Daddy’s Gone”. By that time I’d had enough and figured that a wee detour for chips en route to the train was the best idea. Whilst Polmont was on their collective minds at one point, I needed to get to Larbert. Being that's where I left the car....

So can they do it live, I’d have to plump for no. Nae doubt they’ll headline T In The Park this year and that’ll be their captive audience right there. Of course, there’s Edinburgh’s Hogmanay coming up a lot sooner. Isn't it all a bit sweary for Auld Reekie's outdoors? Actually, way more offensive than the cursing, James Allan does a really irritating pointing at the audience thing, neither big nor clever but he does remind me of Midge Ure in Slik. I was hoping for some evidence of a sense of humour but did not register one iota of irony. The guitar and bass dervishes over egg the pudding too. They need to get used to the fact that they’re no I Are Droid in the big sound department. I’m actually pretty disappointed and wanted to be proved wrong quite badly. It's not that any big expectations were harboured going in there but I wanted, needed to be blown away. My perception was of something much more spiritual, seemingly bigger than the sum of it's parts. Me and these rose-tinted gregorys...

By the time I got out of the train and into the car, I put on The Raveonettes “Christmas (Baby Please Come Home)” and all was right again, partially because of the tenterhooks caused by the news that reached me late this afternoon. Annika Norlin performed that very song, in Swedish, at “ONIC” on Sunday. Stand by for news on how you can hear this magical rendition on Christmas Eve over this thing they call the interweb! And while we’re on the subject, anybody who reckons that Fleet fecking Foxes and Weejvegas (That’ s probably one of Sandy’s although I’m not sure) are better than More Modern Short Stories from Hello Saferide are at best deaf. Possibly delusional. Probably a bit of both.

I’m up again and on the road in a little over 5 hours so goodnight, god bless etc. Over and out.