Glasvegas, Gloucester Guildhall

September 21, 2008

On the July 29, Zane Lowe announced a tour on Radio One that heralded a return to the Guildhall by a band that had graced the said stage little over 7 months ago. Glasvegas were coming, in support of their self-titled debut.

Fast forward to the night (21/09/08) – the show is a sell-out, and there’s a genuine buzz about the place. People gather around in their groups, certain among them extolling the virtues of the night’s entertainment to their unknowing friends, having seen them on their previous visit. They’re expecting big things.

First, however, is the support band. Written up on the board the Guildhall uses to direct people to the right rooms as Mad Skull, a guy walks across the darkened stage and takes his place behind a banner bearing a smiley in a Petr Cech-style scrum cap and starts playing a Billy Connelly sample. As Billy serenades the crowd with tales of Glasgow, the rest of the band take the stage, barely visible behind a smoke-screen. The song stops and the front man comes on the mic; “Alright Gloucester, we’re Madskull. One word, not two like they wrote up there”. Not that I think anyone will remember. They sound like a poor man’s Happy Mondays, with a Glaswegian Shaun Ryder wannabe shouting down the microphone. Not sure what he’s shouting, mind, but whatever it is he was repeating himself a lot. I tuned out until he announced it was there last song – a cover of Glasvegas’ poignant spoken word ode to wielding a blade, ‘I’m Gonna Get Stabbed’. It’s certainly worthy of inclusion into a report on knife crime… The lights come up, the roadies do their thing and the theatre starts filling up, people ready themselves for the main event to a soundtrack of 50s pop. The appointed time comes. The lights go down and a projection of static is beamed to the back wall of the stage.

Sauntering slowly to their places came Glasvegas, dressed all in black (drummer Caroline shamelessly wearing the band’s own merch) and lead singer James sporting sunglasses. The reason for these optical accoutrements becomes clear as the band launch into first number ‘Flowers And Football Tops’, as blinding lights illuminate the audience. Equally as stunning is the perfectly balanced wall of sound that emanates from the four-piece. The excerpt of ‘You Are My Sunshine’ that serves as the outro to ‘Flowers And Football Tops’ garners the first of many crowd sing-alongs, the second of which arrives with the opening lines of former single ‘It’s My Own Cheating Heart That Makes Me Cry’.

Bathed in mirror ball style projections, this tale of paranoia and self-doubt does everything for the crowd but bring it down, prompting bouts of arms aloft swaying. Bona fide chart hit ‘Geraldine’ is greeted just as enthusiastically by the now adoring crowd, leading into live favourite ‘Go Square Go’, which is turned into the terrace anthem it is when James Allan steps back from the microphone to admire the band’s handiwork, local accents being replaced by Scottish inflections. Pausing for breath, Allan address’ the gathered masses; “Gloucester, you know I love you don’t you?”.

The rapturous applause and cheering that follows this statement is rewarded with a slowly swelling, churning address on Glasgow’s religious divide, ‘Ice Cream Van’, which builds and builds and then crashes back down into the quiet and blackness that envelope the hall. Allan makes the band’s ‘thank yous’ and announces the final number for the evening – current single, ‘Daddy’s Gone’. The crowd bounce and sing it right back, pouring as much into their appreciation as Glasvegas are into their performance.

As I walk away, I overhear one punter’s comment; “Well, that’s the last time they play anywhere small“. Perhaps not quite true, but I wholly agree with the sentiment. Especially on the back of a performance like that.