Europe "The Final Countdown 40th Anniversary" Tour, SEC Armadillo, Glasgow. Wednesday 30th September, 2026

Cards on the table: I'm not a huge fan of the band Europe. I've always considered them a second-division outfit. You have to give them credit, though, for their persistence.  Forty years is a long time to keep plugging away. 

When the tour was announced, had GUN and The Damn Truth not been on the bill, I would have passed quicker than if I'd been handed a cheese board (not a fan of the stinky dairy product). However, if GUN are playing anywhere in Glasgow, I'll be there. The Damn Truth was the cherry on the cake, as I've admired their sound for a while.

We arrived before the doors opened at 6 pm, so we joined the queue outside. Fortunately, it was dry. We didn't have to wait long to get in, but there was a delay of about ten minutes before the staff opened the auditorium. Our seats were in row T downstairs. The view was fine, but taking videos this far back was going to be an issue. My photo quality also suffered as the stage had a predominance of blue light, which, for some reason, my camera can't handle. 

The merch stand didn't trouble my wallet tonight

The Damn Truth took the stage to their intro music, Jefferson Airplane's "White Rabbit". The song kept playing as the band got ready. Singer Lee-La Baum wore a white lacy number with an accompanying cat's-ears headband. The rest of the band wore striking rock outfits. The music was great; the band displayed lots of energy, bouncing about, and they really warmed up the crowd with their short, half-hour set. A triumphant start.

The Damn Truth Setlist

(Song played from tape) White Rabbit (Jefferson Airplane song)

Be Somebody

Love Outta Luck

The Willow

This Is Who We Are Now

All Night Long

Tomorrow

During their set, with the lights down and the music blasting, two ladies arrived, hands full, clutching their phones and drinks. Immediately, I was taken with the appearance of the one nearest me: tousled, long blonde hair, a tasselled black leather jacket and age-appropriate curves in all the right places. She leaned close and asked my seat number. I didn't know, turned to Bob, didn't hear his reply properly and gave her the wrong information. They crouched beside the empty seats, looking around to figure out where they should be. Obviously embarrassed, she confessed this was where the usher had directed them. I whipped out my phone, shone the torch on the metal seat number, and realised my mistake. They were in the right place. She thanked me and the pair got comfortable. 

During our exchange, she had been warmly tactile. 

Lucky me. 

At the end of the set, her friend left (toilet/bar?), and so did my pals (toilet), so I took the opportunity to apologise for the seat-number mix-up. This continued into a conversation, most unusually for me. She was a big Europe fan, knew GUN but not that well, and had recently missed the Bon Jovi concert at Murrayfield, so decided on a whim to go to their Wembley gig. She only got the tickets to Europe last week, dragging her pal along. She seemed intelligent, articulate, and interesting. 

When Bob returned, his eyebrows were raised, and a smile sat on his face. "Having a nice chat there?" 

I was. I couldn't lie.

GUN hadn't played live since the Barrowland gig last December, so they seemed rusty at first. It took Dante a couple of songs to warm up his voice and get into the swing of things. By the end of the cracking set, I was hoarse from singing along. I've seen them better, but they were still great. Respect to elder statesman Joolz, but he needs to sharpen up his solos, or let Ruaraidh take over (never going to happen). 

My new friend enjoyed GUN's set, dancing in her seat, arms waving, singing along, much as I was. Afterwards, she confessed she can't make GUN's Barrowland date, as she has a prior engagement that night. She asked me to watch over her jacket while she went to the bar. 

I happily complied.

GUN Setlist

Lucky Guy

Don't Say It's Over

All Fired Up

Falling

Better Days

Take Me Back Home

Word Up! (Cameo cover)

Shame on You

Steal Your Fire

When Europe took the stage, everyone rose to their feet. The band began strong, playing one of their new songs, which I enjoyed. Indeed, the first few songs were great. Then I noticed how uninterested the bassist seemed, and how the guitarist seemed so focused on the playing that he did little else. No crowd interaction, no bouncing about, no obvious signs of pleasure. Joey, the charismatic frontman, sporting a Tom Cruise haircut circa MI:2, worked the room, smiling and posing, in full rockstar mode. His singing was strong, but I started to notice him pulling notes, making musical choices to suit his now-older vocals. 

I'm not saying the band were bad. They are what they are: a top, second-division outfit, capable of delivering a fine set, never reaching the lofty heights of sustained greatness. If I'd been a bigger fan, I would have enjoyed their set more. For example, I may have been more forgiving of the split background video screens not displaying the entire image because of the gaps between the screens.  

At the end, even before the band had left the stage, while they were taking their bows, Bob wanted me to exit the row, but my two female neighbours were in the way. She lifted her jacket and crouched down, searching the floor for her empty tumblers. Rising again, she told me she didn't want to leave a mess. I was happy to wait. She was such a nice lady.

On the way out, her pal peeled off to nip to the ladies, and she walked on with her plastic containers, pausing in the open area to tell Lee-La from The Damn Truth how much she'd enjoyed their set. We headed the other way, out the doors. 

For a second, I wanted to go back and tell her how much I enjoyed our chat. I wanted to know more about her and keep talking. I realised I was smitten. This is unusual for me. Normally, I look at myself and receive an instant reality check. 

Fortunately, I'm happily married, and I'd told this lady I was going to GUN's Barrowland gig with my wife. Laying this safety net probably helped me overcome my shyness.  

So, at the end of the day, I'll remember this gig more for the chats with that rock angel than the music. Although the caterwauling of the Westlife teenies on the pedestrian bridge might come a close second.

I wonder where the story would have gone if I'd been available: AC/DC Shot Down in Flames or Bill Medley/Jennifer Warnes (I've Had) The Time of My Life? Life's not a rom-com, so I'll never know.

 

Europe Setlist

Scandinavian Eyes (Live debut)

Walk the Earth

Superstitious

One on One

(Prelude intro) Last Look at Eden

War of Kings

Prisoners in Paradise

The Cult of Ignorance

On Broken Wings

Rock the Night

Carrie

Danger on the Track

Ninja

Cherokee

Time Has Come

Heart of Stone

On the Loose

Love Chaser

The Final Countdown

Ticket Price: £ 50-ish (Bob bought the tix via Ticketmaster - I still have to square up) 

Jon Anderson and the Band Geeks performing 'Yes' Epics, Classics and More, Royal Concert Hall, Glasgow. Monday 28th September, 2026

In sixth year, one of my pals, David, insisted I listen to Yes. He raved about how brilliant they were and loaned me one of his albums as a taster. Before I knew it, I was up the Barras tracking down cheap, secondhand vinyl of their albums. 

Yes still tour occasionally, but not with Jon Anderson. He left the band in 2008. To me, Jon was always the band's voice. I didn't care so much about who played the instruments, so when I realised Jon was going to tour with the Band Geeks, I thought, "Cool, let's go." The only problem was it was practically sold out already, with only a few rubbish seats left.

I set up a Twickets alert and waited. Eventually, one seat popped up whose view I felt justified the price. 

On the night, I noticed the audience was predominantly older. I might have been the youngest person there, except for the young lad sitting beside me. I wondered if he'd sold me my ticket, but didn't ask. The music pre-gig was one track, Création du monde by Vangelis, on a loop. It set the evening's tone.

There was no support act, so at 7.30 pm, the hall lights dimmed, and Stravinsky started playing over the PA. The band appeared, followed by Jon, and began playing Close To The Edge to an appreciative crowd. At the end of the song, a large proportion of the audience in the stalls rose to give the band a standing ovation. This repeated after every song. I've never seen such an appreciative audience (there might have been a slim possibility some were rising to boost their circulation, fearing a clot). 

Jon's iconic voice was still pitch-perfect. He sang from his square platform at the front and centre, with monitors available for lyrics when he needed them, such as on the newer numbers. His moves reminded me of something between Tai Chi and a soft shoe shuffle, as if the music was flowing through him, guiding his movement. He was clearly having a ball, loving his time on stage, and that feeling transferred to the audience. 

The band were brilliant at recreating the Yes sound. The spinning rear projections gave the stage a seventies feel, appropriate for the music, yet didn't feel out-of-date. Although I was unfamiliar with some of the songs, particularly the non-Yes material, I still enjoyed the performance and stayed engaged. 

They played from 7.30 pm till 10.15 pm with a twenty-minute interval, which is fantastic when you consider Jon is eighty-one. It was a great night. 

 

I've Seen All Good People

 

Starship Trooper

Setlist

Set 1:

Intro music - Firebird Suite (Igor Stravinsky)

Close to the Edge (Yes cover)

Perpetual Change (Yes cover)

Counties and Countries

And You and I (Yes cover)

Giving Is Living

Soon (Yes cover)

Set 2:

Awaken (Yes cover)

I've Seen All Good People (Yes cover)

Once Upon a Dream

Leaves of Green (Yes cover)

Starship Trooper (Yes cover)

Roundabout (Yes cover)

Outro Music - Land Of Hope And Glory

Ticket Price: £65.00 & Twickets Fee £9.10 = £74.10 from Twickets

My (early) view of the stage

stage mascot

Time for a dance with his wife, Jane.

Everyone downstairs is on their feet

Thank you for a great night

Two Doors Down Live, OVO Hydro, Glasgow. Sunday 27th September, 2026.

I love the TV series, so snapping up tickets for this show was a no-brainer. I never paused to consider how the show would translate to the cavernous OVO Hydro. 

Our seats were upstairs, front row, section 205. No photos or videos were permitted during the show (I took this one before - the others are cribbed from the press pack @IG Ltd and The Sun).

From this distance, viewing the actors' facial reactions, a key element of the TV show, was going to prove problematic. Thankfully, the giant screens on either side of the stage saved the day, with the director shooting the action just like in the show. I spent most of the night watching the screens rather than the stage, occasionally glancing over to see what wasn't being shown. 

This could have sunk my enjoyment, but it didn't. The screen format actually made the show feel more intimate. The script was fantastic, with sly digs at the venue and the shows the cast had appeared in before. Cathy's catty barbs were as sharp as ever, as were Christine's withering complaints. Alan's comment about the parking being a whoor at the Hydro was spot on tonight. We ended up on a double yellow up beyond the McDonald's. We didn't get a parking ticket, but I was concerned we might. 

During the interval, they played Proclaimers' songs over the PA, fitting given Alan and Michelle were supposed to be at the Hydro to see the brothers.

The staging made good use of the large Hydro stage, with the house front sliding open to reveal the Bairds' sitting room. The small buildings on either side were used too, turning to reveal a Piccadilly Subway station alcove and Colin and Cathy's front room. The screens above the set displayed the skyline over the residences and also served as the backdrop for scenes in the caravan, which was raised and suspended over the stage, travelling over the set for the finale. 

If I had any complaints, I would say I wasn't so sure about the songs that Jamie sang. His voice is okay, but hardly strong enough to fill the Hydro. I suppose it fitted the character's story, given he wanted to succeed in the music business. 

I would have loved to have seen this show somewhere smaller, like the King's, for obvious reasons. That was never going to happen, though, given the high demand for tickets. Overall, I'd say the show was a great success. Another big plus was that I never got frisked by security on the way in for the first time ever since they introduced the new scanners. 

Ticket Price: £59.50 x 2 + Service Fees £16.10 + Venue Fees £5 = £140.10 from Ticketmaster (OVO Presale) 

Sam Campbell "Kid Giblet", King's Theatre, Glasgow. Saturday 26th September, 2026

The one thing you can expect from a Sam Campbell show is for it to be unpredictable. He sets the tone with his pre-show music, playing an album by Parchís, a shrill 80s children's musical group from Spain, who sound like the lovechildren of The Banana Splits and Pinky and Perky. 

Parchís

The stage is busy, with a bobbing toy duck on a pedestal, dunking its beak into a glass of water, the activity livestreaming on the big screen at the back of the stage. A substantial wooden desk holds a monitor and a laptop. Beside that is a display stand of plastic sunglasses. Then there's the table bearing the sign "Wet Wipes", upon which is a row of ten open bottles of wet wipes. Finally, on the right is a bizarre tri-legged artwork containing a badly hand-drawn portrait of Sam. Comical slides, particular to the King's, intermittently interrupt the duck live feed to keep us amused while we wait for the show to begin. 

A slide pops up asking us to select our opening act, with the link taking us to a poll with options like Slash, Jackie Chan, and The Old Lady. Tonight, we got Friendy, a toy puppet, whose face was filtered onto Sam's on the screen to provide its expressions. Fortunately, the act didn't last long once the joke wore thin.  

Aussie comic Jordan Sharp played Sam's assistant, channelling his inner Joe Wilkinson by wearing a suit and growing a messy full beard. His tasks included starting the video feeds and occasionally filming proceedings, such as when Sam went into the audience to kiss some bald heads. 

In the first act, a member of staff came on to inform Sam that a fire alarm was about to go off. Cue some messing around with the alarm sounds. I thought I recognised the woman as comedian Kate Dolan, recent winner of the Comedians' Award at the Edinburgh Fringe (I'll never forgive her for targeting me at the BBC New Comedy Awards during their Barrowland heat).  

I was proved correct in the second half, which, for reasons I won't spoil, she got to perform for the audience, at least until Sam reappeared in one of the boxes upstairs. I thought this was a clever way to incorporate the support act's slot into the show.

Kate Dolan

In between all this, Sam throws out zingers, interacts with the video screen and the audience, and shows us videos he's made. He delivers everything in his manic style. I struggle to make out everything he says, partly because he doesn't always speak clearly and because the sound in the room isn't great (again), but what I do comprehend is funny as fuck. 

One typical moment at the start had Sam arrive on stage wearing no trousers. Realising his gaffe, he pulls out a wet wipe from every bottle, venting his frustration as he throws each one away. Assistant Jordan then produces an extra-large wet wipe bottle, and Sam pulls out what turns out to be a pair of trousers. The glass of water the duck had been dunking its beak into turned out to be rubber, as we discover when Sam tries to lift it and stretches it out. He had loads of these sight gags.  

My wife enjoyed the show but confessed she wouldn't bother seeing him again. I, on the other hand, delighted in his unpredictability. The only section that disappointed me was the finale. I'd seen him do the phone-number bit and the firing gloves into the audience before (this time he used inflated washing-up gloves rather than water-filled surgical gloves). His long, meandering tale at the end had a weak payoff, more an exercise in making the journey than reaching the destination.

Ticket price:£32.69 x2 + Transaction fee £3.95 = £69.33 from ATG Tickets 

Vittorio Angelone "you can't Say Nothing any more" Tour, King's Theatre, Glasgow. Thursday 24th September, 2026

"Vittorio Angelone has always denied any involvement in stand-up comedy or stand-up-comedy-related activities."

I was disappointed with this gig, possibly because of my high expectations. Online, Vittorio is sharp, cutting and subversive. In person, at a sold-out King's Theatre, I struggled to make out what he was saying from my seat in the middle of the Grand Circle. Part of that was due to his Belfast accent, despite his slow, precise delivery, but mostly it was the room's acoustics, which are usually very good.

The evening had begun unusually. Usually, the PA plays a playlist of tracks chosen by the comedian, but tonight a four-piece Traditional Irish band was playing on stage. Very fiddle-de-dee. You could almost taste the Guinness.

The lights dimmed at 7.30pm for the show to begin, and the band left the stage, leaving their instruments on or beside their chairs. Vittorio came on, asked us to thank the band, and explained that they were called Cúig and usually performed as a five-piece, but he could only afford four. He then introduced his support act, Rosco McClelland. I'd heard some of Rosco's material from his Edinburgh livestream, but he was still okay. 

After his set, there was an interval, and the band returned. A nice touch to boost bar sales by driving people out of the auditorium. I tried to blot them out and read a book.

Vittorio returned dressed smartly in a suit, with a white shirt and a thin tie. He reminded me of how I looked as a store manager at an area meeting. His material began with his relationship to the Troubles, only discovering that his family's ice cream shop had been blown up by the IRA when he read it in an old newspaper. The fact that his father never mentioned it just shows how little those who lived through the Troubles talk about it.

Vittorio had some great lines: He's lost weight the old-fashioned way, not with Ozempic, or, as it's known in Ireland, O'Zempic, with an apostrophe; and regarding the ice cream shop bombing, he asked why the newspaper didn't run with the headline "Bloody Sundae".

One weird thing happened when someone popped open a can and interrupted Vittorio's flow. He paused the show to ask everyone with a can to open theirs together on his count. One woman at the front complained she wasn't ready to drink hers, but he wasn't having it and insisted she comply. She wouldn't. Everyone else did; the sound of all the cans opening at once amused Vittorio. Later, the woman interrupted Vittorio to explain she'd managed to open her can of gin without disturbing the show. The irony!

I felt the show would have worked better in a club rather than a theatre. His delivery begs for intimacy, drawing you in, but a theatre show needs something bigger, which was rarely on show. He complained that someone at the Edinburgh Fringe recorded his finale, spoiling it for anyone who later attended. It also caused him grief, leading to a show being cancelled in Guildford because the subject matter was taken out of context. I won't spoil it for anyone here, but it was fitting.

Playout music: The Mary Wallopers - Cod Liver Oil & The Orange Juice

Ticket Price: £32.69 x 2 & £3.95 Transaction fee = £69.33 from ATG Tickets.

Vittorio Angelone has announced a 24-date 2026 UK tour of his brand-new show, You Can't Say Nothing Any More.

Vittorio Angelone will be performing a sold-out run of You Can't Say Nothing Any More at the Edinburgh Fringe this August. Two additional shows have been added at Underbelly's McEwan Hall (Fri 8th & Fri 22nd August) due to demand.

The 2022 Best Newcomer nominee is returning with his third hour, where he reflects on his upbringing in Belfast without the unrest his parents' and grandparents' generations experienced, and the guilt and twisted jealousy of not having lived through The Troubles himself. Join Vittorio as he considers whether comedians are obliged to be activists and to use their platform for good, while he examines where the proverbial pendulum stands in the Culture War and the related debate around offence in comedy.