After a pleasant drive to Edinburgh, arriving at 6.30 pm for a 7pm doors, I park at the Pleasance and head to the venue. I'm fifth in the queue, until security points out to the person at the front that the queue is actually up the steps, past The Mash House (who also have a gig on). It's not just up the steps. It's around the block, too. I end up on Chambers Street, parallel to the venue, within sight of the National Museum of Scotland. I guess I'll not be on the barrier tonight.
And I wasn't. Lots of tall people down the front, so no videos either.
First up is Kate Couriel (Seb Lowe's violinist and backing singer). This is her very first live performance as a solo artist. She's accompanied by Rory (?) from the band on keyboards. Her music is very like Seb Lowe's: lyrically dense, full of drama and opinion. And a bit samey. It doesn't do her voice justice. I think it would have sounded better with full orchestration, like on Raye's recent album, rather than with this pared-down approach of keyboards and violin. It's a short set, but welcome.
The Rooks are a Glasgow band who possess a swagger reminiscent of Oasis. Which is just as well because their singer sounds awfully like Liam, chewing his lyrics (confusion becomes 'con-few-shei-own'). Despite their confidence/arrogance, they actually sound good. I'd be happy to see them again, maybe with fewer tall people in front so I can see the singer, who's a little on the short side. Cool shades, though.
By the time Seb Lowe takes to the stage, the crowd is hot and sweaty. More youths have pushed forward, shifting the height dynamic, but I still can't see the stage clearly. I refuse to lift my phone above my head to record any of the performances, preferring to snatch the odd photo when I can. The Aberdeen setlist missed out a couple of my favourites, so I'm pleased when they slip in Mr & Mrs Human Race.
The first three songs flow into one another without any chat. I guess they're aiming to cram as much as possible into their hour-long set, favouring the new songs.
Seb likes to come down to the front of the crowd. Only, he is restricted by his microphone cable, relying on a techie to unhook the cord whenever it gets tangled. When Katie comes down, she's so small, no one except those at the front can see her.
There's no Hot To Go moment this time, but the crowd amazes me, being able to sing all those lyrics along with Seb. They are loud, too; the largely young and female audience nearly busts my eardrums, even with earplugs in, as they scream their appreciation between songs. It was nice having nearly six hundred people singing, "We all love dogs, we all hate cats", at the top of their voices.
I don't wait afterwards to meet the band. Let the young fans have their moment. I do keep an eye out for setlists being handed to fans and manage to persuade one youngster to let me photograph hers. As always, thank you for doing so.
Setlist:
Little Caesar
Here Come the Aliens!
Jump Scare
Kill him (he's a Socialist)
I'm Hateful, I'm Horrible, I Love You
Don't Say No to Hitler
One Day to Live
iPhone
Freak.
Mr & Mrs Human Race
People Like You
Ode to Britannia
A Westerner Walks Into a Bar
Terms and Conditions
No One to Kill in the Sky
Ticket Price: £14.00 & Service Fee £2.75 & postage £0.70 = £17.45 from TicketWeb.
The first thing we notice as we take our seats in the front row of the Grand Circle is the loud music. Either the soundman is going deaf, or it's deliberate, to blast energy into the room. I don't recognise all the songs, but they get my foot tapping and occasionally actually mouthing along to the words.
Just after 7.30 pm, the lights dim and an unknown voice welcomes our first act, Andrew Bird. He's been on the circuit a long time, and it shows. He absolutely smashes it with his observations, especially about married life. He serves as an ideal warm-up for Russell. He is touring in January and will appear at the Glee Club in Glasgow on Wednesday, 27th January 2027 (Tickets).
More loud music during the interval, before Russell's tour manager comes on and whips up the crowd, before introducing Russell.
Russell is a pro. From the off, he's joke, joke, joke. Shortly into the set, he admits he shat himself during the matinee performance and is now full of Imodium, so his movements might be restricted. He confesses he can't do a Scottish accent, demonstrating his best effort, choosing to go Welsh instead when need be.
He is incessant. If anything, there are too many jokes to laugh at them all.
Afterwards, my wife said that he was just alright. I think she meant he was too slick.
He definitely was funny, but this was an arena performance in a theatre. Maybe he should have turned down the volume and made it more intimate. You can't beat his laugh rate, though.
Ticket Price: 2 x £41 & transaction fee £3.95 = £85.95 from ATG Tickets
Preshow music:
You are the Generation That Bought More Shoes and You Get What You Deserve by Johnny Boy
Shine A Light by Paolo Nutini
Beachball (Andry Meets Schalli @ Monkey Island Remix) by Nalin & Kane
I saw a £15 ticket offer for this gig earlier in the week. Of course, being Ticketmaster, £15 tickets actually ended up costing £20.80. It was still worth it, though. This was Ray's biggest-ever solo show, and it felt good to support him. I've always found him a disarmingly funny comic with an easy, conversational style that packs a killer punchline.
He's never nervous on stage because, with two deaf parents, he's always had to be confident from a young age to help them navigate the world of sound. He gets a lot of mileage from his deaf parents. Despite hearing some of the stories before, I couldn't help but laugh at them again, because 1) his delivery is so smooth, 2) everyone is laughing, and 3) the stories are very funny. For example, Ray hears someone using a chainsaw outside his house early one morning. He looks out his window and sees his deaf dad cutting the hedge. He also sees all the neighbours watching from their windows, annoyed at being disturbed so early. Ray makes gestures to try to catch his dad's attention (no point in shouting), and eventually catches his dad's eye. Ray signs to him that he is disturbing the neighbours. His dad looks about, shrugs and then signs back, "That's your problem," and carries on.
Ray performed both halves of the show with his sign language interpreter. She also provided a few laughs, like when she showed him the middle finger (not up the bum - injoke*) after he made a joke about her.
Before the show, Ray watched the audience on the screens backstage. With many deaf people in the audience, he was able to eavesdrop on their signed conversations, the best one being one chap who asked his wife if she thought he had time to go for a shite.
It would have been brilliant if he could have sold out the venue, but even with the last-minute £15 tickets on sale, the Front Circle was less than half full, with no one in the rear seating or top floor. This was a shame. It was a good night.
Afterwards, on the way back to the car, I persuaded my wife that we should stop at McDonald's. I wanted a Creme Egg McFlurry, and she decided she'd like the same, but the mini version. At the order screen, I raced through the transaction, but the machine had no receipt roll. As I took out my phone to photograph the order number, the screen returned to the start. My wife berated me for hitting the wrong button. She said I had cancelled the order. So I repeated the process, and again it leapt back to the order screen, though this time I briefly noticed the number 97 flash before it disappeared. She was angry now. Why did I cancel it again? She now wanted to leave, but I was determined to order my ice cream. For a third time, I went through the process, taking each step slowly. At the end, I paused to read the instruction she claimed I had got wrong. 'Yes' meant retry. Nothing happened. It couldn't. There was no receipt roll. 'No' meant continue without a receipt. Then we heard 97 being called, just after 95. Two sets of our order were on the counter, with a third on the way. My wife couldn't stop laughing. In the end, they refunded the other two orders. The assistant asked if I wanted a receipt. I said no. I got one anyway.
Ticket Price: Venue £15 Ticket offer: £15.00 x 2 = £30.00 Service Fee: £2.05 x 2 = £4.10 Venue Facility Fee: £2.50 x 2 = £5.00 Handling Fee £2.50 Total £41.60 via Ticketmaster
* At a wedding, Ray persuaded an American guest to order a 'Finger Up The Bum' at the free bar. Ray credits the barman with the greatest of replies. "Is that a single or a double?"
Paranormal podcaster Danny Robins is in the news, so we want to know... Tell us your most paranormal experience?
Mashed-up Headlines: 1. Trump announces two-week ceasefire in the Middle East - Goosebumps or Goosetrumps? 2. Artemis II travelling further from Earth than any other human being.
Stories People are talking about:
1. Evelyn Hollow - Saunas are the new pub
2. Grant Stott - Change in subscription laws
Mystery voice:
1. Curler Bruce Mouat
2. Danny Robins
Quickfire round:
"40% of young people in Scotland are not what?"
Best answer: Are not sure if a Mazda is a car or their maternal grandfather.
Klaxon "Send your poo to Dundee" - Martin Geissler
I've only ever been to one James concert before. My wife declined to attend this one, despite enjoying them last time. She felt that was a box she's already ticked. I needed to know if they were always this good. We'd had seats last time, so we were a bit removed from those who got to experience Tim up close as he crowdsurfed over them. I wanted a bit of that.
I arrived before the official door opening time, made my way through security (I always get frisked), and headed for the OVO presale door. And was let in. It felt like a Walking Dead moment, seeing so many standing outside beyond the locked doors, while I waited inside in a queue of four people at Door C.
Once each of the inner doors opened, a race to reach the barrier began; however, attendees were not allowed to run. Stewards dotted around the arena repeatedly reminded offenders to walk, but the boldest already had the edge, grabbing the centre. I landed a barrier spot on the left, as far along as the end of the stage walkway. Not an ideal angle, but right at the front.
The view before the masses descend
I'd left a six-inch gap between myself and the girl on my right. A hand reached out and grasped the pole, staking a claim. A bearded man wanted his daughter on the barrier, and he was prepared to do whatever it took to make that happen, maintaining his grip till James came on if need be. He asked the girl on my right if she'd give up her spot so his small daughter could see better. She bluntly refused. He didn't ask me. However, he wanted a drink, and his daughter was unwilling to leave her hand in his place, so they gave up and moved on.
The preshow music consisted of nineties classics: Oasis, Ocean Colour Scene, The Verve, Placebo, and such like. Even the young ones knew the songs and sang along.
The bloke on my left, wearing a James hoodie, was chatty and amiable. A Lancastrian, he was mad for James and travelled far and wide to see them. He'd come up from Morecambe with his wife, but she was hanging back. He admitted he would only wait on the barrier for the first six or so James songs, then go back and join her. We chat about Glasgow and our experiences at gigs.
Doves appear at 7.25 pm. I'm not familiar with their work, but I enjoy the performance. Not much to see except the band playing their instruments in the tiny space afforded them. At one point, the guitarist takes over the drum kit so the drummer can sing lead vocals. At the end, almost all of them are on percussion. After forty-five minutes, their turn is over.
Doves
During their set, the lads behind me were getting rowdy. They were loud, chatty and weren't interested in Doves. The girls next to them, led by an assertive, tattooed mother, try to charm me into giving up my spot. Nothing sexual. She wasn't offering me the youngest's virginity or anything. She asked if I would give up my spot on the barrier, and I declined. Then she started work on the Englishman. He was more amenable. He knew he wouldn't stay for the whole concert and promised them his slot. Nice guy.
Or so I thought. Within a few songs, his enthusiasm had elbowed me out of the way. I should have stood my ground, but, to be honest, I felt like a bit of a fraud, surrounded by fans who knew every word and wanted to dance up a storm. To be fair to him, he kept his word and manoeuvred the tattooed woman and her daughter onto the barrier when he left. They were ecstatic when Tim stood in front of them and held their hands. With hindsight, it's clear my English friend did the right thing. He was the better man.
Standing behind the girls felt more comfortable. I could easily see over their heads and take a couple of videos of the band for my YouTube page. Okay, yes, that tattooed arm ruined a few of my photos, but this wasn't a photography club. It was a live music experience. And it was brilliant.
Not my arm.
During the show, Tim admitted they change the setlist every night to keep it fresh, so we were not to expect anything slick. In fact, they didn't even stick to the printed setlist, changing it up as the mood took Tim. I suppose the band know their back catalogue so well, he trusts them to deliver.
Tim performing on the balcony was quite a sight and an amazing experience for the seated attendees. Granted, he didn't make it all the way round, but still, that's not something that happens at many other gigs. He made many fans very happy.
After two songs, Tim instructed the band to fill while he made his way back to the stage. The violinist initiated some experimental jazz, which Tim quickly shut down, telling them to play something less shit. They did.
Tim has a magnetic presence. His dancing is so loose and free, and he loves to be directly in front of his audience. Chloe and Debbie also came down to join us at different times. Chloe made the night for a number of girls on the barrier, holding their hands and gazing into their eyes as she sang to them. Such a personal touch. It was lovely to watch.
I may not have been intimately aware of all the songs played, but the experience was still sublime. I'll trade not being able to see every screen for that moment meeting with Tim's gaze. I didn't attempt to hold his hand. I let the dedicated fans have that experience. Afterwards, I saw one of the rowdy youths say to his mates, "Tim held that hand", while holding it by the wrist like it was now a sacred object, blessed by the Booth.
After the show, I waited and tracked down someone who had received a printed setlist, politely asking if I could take a picture of it. (See below). As I said above, though, they didn't stick to it.
Actual Setlist (according to setlist.fm):
Tomorrow
Waltzing Along
I Know What I'm Here For
Heads
Way Over Your Head
Attention
P.S.
Say Something (Tim singing in the arena’s Level 2 seating)
She's a Star (Tim singing in the arena’s Level 2 seating)
Five-O
Greenpeace
Shadow of a Giant
Moving On
Stay
Come Home
Ring the Bells
Getting Away With It (All Messed Up)
Encore:
Sometimes (Lester Piggott)
Laid
Ticket Price: £59.50 plus Service Fee: £8.05 plus Venue Facility Fee: £2.50 plus Handling Fee £2.50 = £72.55 from Ticketmaster OVO Presale.
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