Hans Chew - Christie Connor-Vernal King Tuts Wah Wah Hut - 29/07/14 (Glasgow)

Innis & Gunn in a can?

Why did no one tell me about this?

Initially I was entertaining some dark thoughts about this new release being kept a secret from me, but then when my change was handed back over the bar I realized that friends were keeping it quiet in an attempt to steer me away from financial ruin.

In these recession hit times the four pound price tag (nearly $7US) is something that my meagre income is not up to carrying the weight of.

As the barmaid took my money I had a flashback to when the Solid Rock Café wet the bottom of a two glasses with some Mount Gay rum and took ten pounds from me for the privilege. 

I nearly cried that night, and as I sipped on my expensive Innis and Gunn I could feel tears welling up again as I grieved for the loss of hard worked for mullah from my wallet.

It’s been an emotional week I guess.

Anyway on the upside I was in good company, and the prospect of seeing Christie Connor-Vernal with a full band backing her, and the headliner Hans Chew, was enough to balance out the bad karma that was lurking behind the bar waiting to take the shine off the night for unsuspecting patrons.

Once relocated to venue proper that is upstairs the night could start in earnest though, and it most certainly did as Christie and the band opened with As good as I am.

The studio version, while impressive, pales in comparison to the live rendition.

It’s not that the band and Christie were pulling their punches while recording it, but instead that with a quality sound - and an audience to play to that were obviously supportive - the whole performance is taken to a different level again.

After another couple of songs were aired from the session I started to get the distinct impression that there was something quite cinematic about the experience.

That what we were seeing reflected the Hollywood rock and roll fantasy.

It’s Christie starring as the up and coming artist who is paying her dues along with her band in small bar rooms, and from the quality of the music on display it is easy to see where the story is going, and of course the credits will assuredly roll on a triumphant stadium show.

However the thing with these films is that they can’t start off revealing anyone really paying their dues, and from the first song the standard is set at a level that is maintained across the whole movie.

After all they have a soundtrack release to sell.

Consider Kris Kristofferson and Barbara Streisand in “A star is born”.

Beyonce Knowles in “Dreamgirls”,

Or even Neil Diamond in “The Jazz Singer”.

All of these movies have musicians at the top of their game pretending to be starting off, and it is in this way that the set reflects that as the quality of the bands performance is out of sync with the surroundings.

It’s a set that is already at the point of being featured as the end credits roll.

It just seems that as a whole this is a band that should literally be already jetting about from festival to stadium and it is only in catching them live that this can be understood.

On the rare occasions when I witness a band taking the music to this degree of professionalism, paired with a solid chunk of passion, then it honestly begs the question why label representatives are not out the back of the venue slapping each other in the face with chequebooks with the last man, or women, standing getting to sign them.

Someone out there somewhere isn't doing their job if any band this talented is not being supported in achieving their dreams.

As for Hans Chew it was a bittersweet first meeting.

The bitter part was all about the amount of people flooding from the venue prior to them starting to play.

Something that had nothing to do with Hans Chew either, but everything to do with the usual myopic engagement with live music from the public.

People just generally stick to what they know, and as Hans and his band are a bit of an unknown quantity here in the UK then the majority simply weren't looking to take the time to get acquainted.

It would be easy to say it is their loss, but it isn't.

It’s really our loss, our collective loss, because every time this happens the artists at the level Hans and his band-mates are at have to consider if it is worth returning to these shores from the other side of the world.

They have to think about the costs involved, the time away from their family and friends, and then weigh it up while asking themselves if the fan picked up in this bar here and the two in that club there is really edging their careers forward in any meaningful way.

The brutal angle on that is if it’s not, then it’s not, and it isn't worth doing.

The sweet part was as you have probably guessed the music, and oh how sweet it was.

The band simply refused to let the dwindling crowd take anything away from what they do.

With a Hans Chew show no one is getting short changed.

You paid to hear some great music and that’s what you are getting.

It’s actually rare to see a band so attuned to each other.

I don’t know if it comes from practice, a natural ability, or a combination of both, but there are points in the show where it looks as if the band becomes lost in a high velocity jam session with each other.

Sometimes when that happens I can appreciate that the musicians are skirting with disaster and there’s an added appeal as everything could jump the rails at any second, but Hans Chew aren’t like that.

Instead it’s a fluid and organic performance that takes everything to a peak, and then pushes on beyond that and as every peak is reached and you think they can’t take it to another then they gleefully do leaving other bands in the dust.

Of course on stage Hans is the focal point, and maintains control throughout, but this is a real band and not a one man show.

The musicianship on display hammers that point home.

The rhythm section of Jesse Wallace on drums and Ricardo Ortiz on bass don’t simply provide a beat, a foundation for the songs to be built up from, but rather they play their instruments as part of the fabric of the songs and provide additional shading to everything that is being played.

I've seen many drum solos and like the majority of non musicians they leave me cold, but Jesse doesn't just beat at the skins and hit everything in sight.

When he goes into his solo it’s a musical part of the show in itself.

Similarly Dave Cavallo on guitar is no slouch.

You want some bottle neck slide with the soulful keyboard flourish?

Not a problem sir.

You want a punky thrash to compliment some honky-tonk tinkling?

Have some of that and here’s a side order of the blues to go with it.

Meanwhile with Hans stomping, growling and howling through everything from soul and jazz to country and juke joint rock and roll it becomes glaringly obvious that they are collectively providing a joyous noise that covers every base imaginable.

It’s a smorgasbord of aural delights with something for everyone.

A one stop shop for real music fans to indulge in.

At one point as they tucked their heads down and powered on I was thinking about a celebrity death match between the Doors and MC5 with it coming to a points finish.

At another I was considering Dr John playing at 3am in a piano bar.

Stunning.

That could be a one word review for it.

To take it back to an earlier point about the lack of an audience.

If this is what you get in a room with barely anyone in it can you imagine what it would be like if the band could feed off an ecstatic crowd and they and the audience build on that flow?

At the end of the gig it would have to be classed as a natural disaster zone as it wouldn't just be the roof of the venue taken off, but every roof in a five mile radius.

Oh I do so hope they come back.  

Hans Chew Facebook  Hans Chew Website  Christie Connor-Vernal Facebook  CCV Bandcamp

Sick Puppies - King Tuts Wah Wah Hut 23/04/14 (Glasgow)

Rank Berry may currently be a man down, and the infamous five may now be the fearsome four for the moment, but with vocalist Jamie filling the vacant guitarist spot the train most definitely kept-a-rolling.

With this, their first appearance at King Tuts, they did however seem to be a strange addition to the bill.

Strange because while all three acts are rock bands, the Rank Berry boys exist on the opposite end of the spectrum from both The Feud and Sick Puppies.

While the headliners, and tour support, have pop influenced hardcore and industrial leanings it was Rank Berry who were very obviously flying the flag for a more traditional sound.

A sound that while bereft of samples, whistles and bells was warmly embraced by the crowd in attendance going by the reaction they received.

It’s a testament to their abilities as a band that they can win fans over from cold, and that’s not something that should be overlooked, and neither should the talent and experience that has taken them to the cusp of stepping up a rung.

A quality studio release and some more appropriate supports could very well see them hitting the ground running sooner than some are expecting.

Quite simply put the performance hinted again at what could be within their grasp if they manage to position themselves in the right place at the right time.

Manchester noiseniks The Feud are a very different band as mentioned.

They are walking on a tightrope and carefully balancing themselves above some very disparate scenes.

There are elements of the industrial-lite post hardcore material that is so beloved of the likes of Kerrang readers, hints of industrial noise that could draw comparisons to NIN if Trent Reznor was aiming to have his music played on the dreaded 4Music, and an attempt to hold it all together with a mainstream dance sound.

It really shouldn't work at all, but mid set they hit their stride and managed to hold it all together in a way that would probably draw the attention of someone who was looking to have a band to appear in a club scene of their latest teen vamp masterpiece.

Of course that could be taken as a negative, but I'm happy to leave the musical snob at the door and accept that while the band might not deliver much of what I am interested in, they are very good at delivering within the remit of what they are aiming for.

I wouldn't be surprised if they managed to carve a niche in the alternative teen market for themselves.

If that’s their intent then it’s achievable.

Probably a move stateside would be beneficial.

And talking of moves to the US, Sick Puppies haven’t done too badly by relocating there from Australia.

Elsewhere their success has taken them too much larger venues than King Tuts, but while the UK are playing catch up at the moment this tour could change all that.

With attention on the band initially coming from their song ‘All the same’ being used as part of the free hugs internet campaign they certainly seized the day and maximised on that opportunity in a way that other acts could learn from.

Since then they have released some solid material that has eclipsed their foot in the door track, and with current album Connect they have moved forward yet another step.

This incremental growth of the band has been welcomed by the fans, if not the critics, but as the band begin to build up some steam in their live set it was nice to see that the focus wasn't on pleasing the critics, but instead on creating an inclusive experience for the band and fans to enjoy.

It’s this foundation stone that they keep their feet firmly planted on that will maintain interest in them as the bands career progresses.

Critics can come and go, but real fans are worth their weight in gold.

It’s good to see a band that so blatantly gets that.

As for Glasgow it was a case of Sick Puppies sized the city up, stepped into the ring and left victorious.

As someone who was aware of a handful of tracks and casually impressed with them I left with the opinion that I had just seen a great band who aren't ever going to be seen as one that enjoyed a momentary moment in the sun, as these guys aren't going anywhere soon.

Space / Republica - King Tuts Wah Wah Hut - 18/03/14 (Glasgow)

For many the Space and Republica double header tour is all about nostalgia.

It’s an opportunity to relive the good times from the late nineties by a certain type of music fan that worshipped at the altar of top of the pops.

And of course that’s fine, but within minutes of Republica taking to the stage it became very obvious that no one had sent the band the memo outlining that they were to do a by the numbers set.

Instead here they were storming out of the gates and sounding as hungry as any band of young guns looking to make a name for themselves.

It’s probably a bit of a surprise to some that the pop element of the bands sound is left sitting in the backseat while the punk attitude is put firmly up front and given the steering wheel, and it must feel like a slap in the face.

The equivalent of being shook hard while the band shouts in their faces that they need to wake up and smell the coffee.

It’s pretty exhilarating to be honest.

If the intent of the band was to blow apart all the preconceived ideas that some may have held then they do it in fine style.

The hits are played, but it doesn’t sound like they do them to pacify anyone, but purely because there’s still plenty of fuel in the materials tanks and they deserve to be set loose to burn off some energy.

A common problem for bands that are looking to make a return into the spotlight is that fans are very rarely appreciative of their current endeavours and just want the hits of yesteryear to be played.

So when they try and introduce anything circa now the set can grind horribly to a halt, but Republica effortlessly managed to slip in songs from last years ‘Christiana Obey EP’ with no noticeable blip in the energy flowing back and forth between them and the crowd.

Not many bands can do that, and it’s to their credit that they make it appear an easy task to carry out.

It was all a bit of a revelation for me as I was there to see Space, but next time Republica come to town I’m there, and I doubt I will be the only one.

Space are less of a nostalgic blast from the past as they never really made an effort to fit into a specific era, and instead just existed in their own little bubble of sound, a sound that isn’t in or out of fashion, that doesn’t sound dated or even fresh for that matter, it just is.

Space are simply just Space, and it’s good to see them back.

It’s also very obvious from the reaction of the sold out crowd that I am not alone in feeling that the balance of the universe is now restored with the bands return.

With drive-in adverts playing on what looked to be a large white sheet draped onto the back of Tuts wall, and a countdown involved that gave us all a minute by minute update on when they were due to appear, the excitement was ramped up a bit and then when they did step up onto the stage it was to a heroes welcome.

Before a note had been struck the band had already won a sizable portion of the crowd over.

And then it got better, and better and better.

For portions of the show it was like singalongaspace as everyone roared out the words to the familiar material and gamely made the effort to mouth along to the songs from Attack of the Mutant 50ft Kebab.

There was a bit of skanking, but that may have just been me, but who cares as it was a sort of a let it all hang out night by that point anyway.

Tommy getting down into the face of the crowd to have them display their own vocal talents on Female of the Species was enthusiastically received to the extent that when the band decided to do an encore they did it all again.

A mate, Gerry Corr, was suitably impressive as he sang out the refrain, and while I am very pleased that he managed the grab the opportunity my chance of being picked up by a random music scout was cruelly dashed when Tommy offered me the mic and a drunken fella leaned in over my shoulder to ask if he could get the red wig from the stage.

Cue Tommy buggering off and my chance was gone.

My dream of being plucked from obscurity was stamped into the dusts and I was left with the understanding that after the show I would have to return to me everyday life.

Heartbreaking!

Bloody heartbreaking!

Then again I’m a shit singer so crushed fantasies aside I picked myself up and got back into it all.

You know those gigs that you just want to go on for ever and ever?

This was one of them.

I’m still buzzing, and as first nights of a tour goes, I think Space can consider that the bar has been set high.

So bring on the rest of the tour, a decent level of sales of the album, another album and another tour and another album and another tour ad infinitum.

Photo by Amanda Robinson

Calling all you rockers.

The foundations of Glasgow could well be pounded to dust over the course of next week as it's packed full with touring bands who RAWK.

That's the trademarked RAWK, and not the lower case rawk that falls short of being able to really describe the all men play on eleven sort of thing I'm talking about.

On Tuesday (26th Nov) there's Buckcherry who have Hardcore Superstar and Venrez opening for them in the Garage.
Last time Venrez were on these shores it was opening for LA Guns, but since then stateside they have been touring with Alice Cooper and more recently Slash.
These guys are not your usual opening act, and the tour is just another move to raise their profile over here. So if you are the type who rarely makes the effort to check out a support band then don't make that mistake this time.
Don't be the person who says I shoulda, woulda, coulda when they break through.
Instead be the person who bought the t-shirt and roared their approval from the first song to the last.

Then it's a case of no rest for the wicked as Raven and Girlschool bring their NWOBHM revival tour to King Tuts Wah Wah Hut on Wednesday (27th Nov).
Also on the bill are Glasgow band Purple Valentino (Interviewed on the prior update).
Yet another support that you really should make the effort to catch.
When people claim theirs nothing good on the musical horizon they are the sort who haven't seen Purple Valentino.

Wednesday is thankfully a day to catch a breath as you will need it for Friday (29th Nov) when Michael Monroe and his band roll into town to promote their latest album.

It really doesn't need to be said that they don't intend to take any prisoners, and those who seen them open for Motorhead in the Academy, or when they played The Garage, are well aware that these guys never ever phone in a show.
I've seen the set list from a few dates over the last few weeks and if we get half of them then we can count ourselves lucky.

So seriously take care of your liver over this weekend as it may just have to go above and beyond the call of duty as we storm into these shows.

Glasgow. Are you ready to rock?

Silly question.

When is Glasgow not ready to rock?

Tommy Clark and what he did last night.

Jim Dead

You know every once in as while an amazing gig turns up and you think I am NOT going to miss this.

Well last night was one of those nights, but there was a problem.

Like the bus we wait on that’s late only for two to then arrive at once I had the option of two shows.  

What one to go to?

Well of course I did what every good music fan would do and hot footed it between them to catch as much as I could. 

The first performance was from Jim Dead who was playing in Pivo Pivo.

I managed to get in early doors and grab a beer and play catch up with some folk early doors including Jim before he took to the stage.

As I took a seat Jim casually walked on stage and began tuning his guitar.  There was the usual people chatting as is the way of things.  Then suddenly Jim looked up and with a simple strum down the strings he begun. 

Right from that moment everything changed.

His set consisted of some songs from his new EP ‘I’m not lost’ and other stretching back through his extensive back catalogue. Songs that I am familiar with, but it was obvious I was in the minority as those around me were wakening up to what Jim does.

Then as he came towards the end of his set something amazing happened and it’s not something I have very often seen.

He stopped strumming his guitar and began to sing acapella. It was totally unexpected, but in that moment perfect.

It is a sign of real talent when someone can hold a rooms attention just with their voice and no accompaniment.

Taking a glance around I noticed that even the bar staff had stopped to listen to this. 

I have seen Jim play several times but never have I experienced such emotion in an audience of his. 

Amazing probably doesn't come close. 

A better adjective for it, to quote the man next to me, was captivating.  On form like this I can’t fathom why Jim doesn't play to larger audiences, but then again maybe that’s not what it’s all about.

A bigger venue with a larger, and noisier, audience would probably take something away from it. 

The intimacy would be lost. 

The connection made stolen from the moment. 

So in hindsight this has to be described as special.

I hope that it can be repeated given the right situation, but if not I am very pleased that I witnessed it.  

From Pivo I did the mad dash up the hill to King Tuts for a 4 band bill featuring The Likely lads, Stonehouse Violets, Soldier on and Steady State Regime. 

As I arrived at the venue the latter of the bands were taking the stage. 

Steady State Regime could be described as Kasabian meets The Stone Roses.

Not a bad thing in my book.

I managed to take in most of their set which consisted solely of original tracks. 

I was surprised to be told that this performance was after only two rehearsals with their new drummer Paul Slavin.

I was highly impressed with how tight they were albeit with a few stage winks. Bands shouldn’t be up to speed so fast when breaking in a replacement, but they carried it off without breaking a sweat.

There’s already some tracks recorded and very soon I will have them aired on the 3^rd Class ticket on Mesi radio and others can pass on what they think.

Literally diving onto stage with some obvious hunger were Stonehouse Violets who similar to Steady State Regime were bedding in a new drummer.

Not that you would pick up on the change, unless of course you were looking.  Mikey looking forever the rock front man told the crowd ‘we don’t have long here so lets get on with it’, and then did just that.

Thrashing through an upbeat set it was back to their best for the Violets who had slightly let me down last time with a performance that may have dipped due to some over indulgence of spirits on their part.

I said when the previous drummer Scott left that they had big gloves to fill, but Matthew has brought a different style and energy to the band and he has to be applauded for slipping in and making the drum stool his own. 

Seeing Stewart jump off stage and play a solo in the crowd was another highlight of a far too short set.

A short sharp burst of rock and roll that hinted again at the band being one to watch.

Unfortunately I didn’t manage to catch The likely lads set due to being caught up in conversations about future airing and possibilities of sessions in the future.  Watch this space for updates!!!!

I headed back into the venue with an expectant crowd for the appearance on stage of Ayrshire mod band Soldier On, and they didn’t disappoint with an explosion of colour and sound from the first beat. 

There’s no reverse gear with these guys. It’s all full steam ahead.

Over the last few months they have worked hard at building up a solid fan base and they were out in force and with their usual mix of upbeat originals and covers the band whipped them into frenzy.

The band know how to work a set and there’s no lulls. It just starts hard and fast and builds ever stronger as it progresses until they bring the curtain down on yet another fantastic night for those lucky enough to see them.

A night to definitely remember.   

Turbonegro - King Tuts - 24/11/12 (Glasgow)

It's safe to say that my Turbonegro cherry was well and truly popped last night.

While some played the Hank and the Duke comparison game after the show, my ignorance of what a Turbonegro gig was like with Hank at the helm allowed me to wallow in just how fuckin' good the band are in the here and now.

Turbonegro are the sleazy ambASSadors of fist pumping, foot stomping, rabid head banging rock and roll.

A band who have a mission to spread the word of fun filled debauchery to the masses, and while their tongues are firmly in the cheeks, they are still taking that mission very seriously indeed.

From stadium stages to club sized holes in the wall they have played them all, but the surroundings of King Tuts was pretty much the perfect receptacle to hold all the overflowing adulation for the band in.

A venue that can hold a few hundred people in a tight embrace is were the real shit goes down, and it would be roughly accurate to say that just about every square metre of the floor had the foot of a member of the turbojugend laying claim to it.

The amount of denim on display would have some assuming that they were at a Status Quo gig, but those hoary old rockers never attracted such a fucked up, but still stylishly decadent, crowd of malcontents, and they never will.

Back patches showed that the pilgrimage to Glasgow had been made from all over England and Ireland, and some of the accents I heard were definitely from the European mainland.

That a band can draw so many people from different walks of life together under a roof to celebrate something that is so joyously barking mad is for me somewhat magical.

I doubt that anyone wandered off into the night harbouring any sort of disappointment as the band delivered everything that was promised with a set that had a good grip of Sexual Harassment, but also held all the classics from the past close to its chests.

Every song was blasted out with a kiloton of energy behind it, and the fans of the band reciprocated by thrashing around in an orgy of lost abandon to every move that their heroes made.

Self control was evidently something that isn't required at the gig, and everyone in attendance freely gives themselves over to letting go of all the shit in their lives in exchange for a free pass to party with no constraints.

From the outside looking in some would say that the lunatics had maybe taken over the asylum, but with no negativity being given any attention on a night that played out to a backdrop of zero drunken incidents, or arsehole behaviour of any type, I could argue that the real lunatics were safely being held outside in the wider world allowing us to just get on with our celebration of raw rock and roll.

It doesn't get much better than that.

Alabama Shakes - King Tuts - 09/05/12 (Glasgow)

Sometimes music can virtually transcend reality.

It can take you from your immediate surroundings and provide you with a high that no chemical concoction every could.

Your eyes dilate, the hairs rise on your arms, and for a moment in time the sounds created by a band, or a single artist, manages to become the centre of your universe.

A connection is made between those who are creating the music and those who are listening to it.

It can feel like a spiritual experience, and an argument could be made that the path to nirvana is an aural one.

Imagine the band performing as Michelangelo's God, and the audience as his Adam, while the gap between crackles with the electricity of life.

That's what it was like witnessing Alabama Shakes on their first visit to Glasgow.

In over thirty years of attending gigs I can count on one hand the occasions that I have felt that primal connection, and I count myself lucky that I have participated in as many as that.

While there are great gigs and phantasmagorical shows that live on in your memory, it is also true that some performances exist as a singularly breathtaking experience.

They go beyond what it is to simply participate in listening to music live.

It's not every artist or band that can provide that moment, and often when they do it isn't something that can be repeated on cue.

Instead it would seem that it has to organically come to life. 

A certain balance between performer and audience has to be reached, and then maintained.

It doesn't even seem to be something that needs a physical connection, as when I have been privileged to be in the right place at the right time I would say that the main performer isn't actually trying to entertain, but instead they have become lost in what they are doing, and that intensely personal evocation of their art is quite possibly where the magic lies.

The connection with the listener is real, but it is also voyeuristic.

I stood stage front, and slightly to the side of Brittany Howard, and was transfixed as she sang.

Every single word, every single syllable, every grunt and yelp was emotionally charged.

What Alabama Shakes did isn't something that can be captured in a studio or on a television appearance.

No matter how good anyone considers their album to be, or how impressed they are with the live footage that is available, it is still a diluted facsimile of the real deal.

The phrase 'you had to be there' has never been more apt.

Previously I have spoken about the similarities in her tone to Janis Joplin, but live there is so much more going on.

There's the soul of Stax and Muscle Shoals, there's James Brown, Aretha Franklin, the desperate rawness of Joplin and some emotive Tina Turner all fighting for the upper hand.

None can manage it though as there is only one Brittany Howard.

A singularly inspirational talent who deservedly garners hyperbolic superlatives from critics everywhere she goes

The band themselves are rock solid in support.

Someone said to me that they seemed quite static.

That's not how I would describe them.

Instead they are the skeleton that provides the framework that everything else hangs on.

They don't have to pander to show business flourishes.

Instead they simply let their skills as musicians do the talking.

If any of them started throwing rock star shapes then it would demean the performance and Alabama Shakes aren't about that.

They are all about the music.

It really was a privilege to have been there.

I've ran out of things to say that will convey how good the whole show was.

Similar to how some claim to speak in tongues as they are receiving Gods own words straight to them, and that their puny human bodies cannot articulate the message I may just start babbling here.

It really was that good.

If you can't accept my word on it then go and see them, and I sincerely hope that they are firing on all cylinders and you get turned inside out like I did.

Band Website     Rough Trade Records        Alabama Shakes on Facebook