Paolo Nutini, The OVO Hydro, Glasgow. Sunday 18th December, 2022

I like to seek out one big gig for December each year. This year, it was local boy, Paolo Nutini.

I'd persuaded my wife to slum it for dinner (a Macdonald's) so we could head up early and nab a parking spot near the venue. The order screen machine failed to provide a receipt but I didn't panic. I could see other customers being handed food without showing their paperwork. Not so calm were a trio of French lads (with their beautiful wavy hair) who despaired vocally as they realised their long receipt had no ink on it and they couldn't remember the order number. Fortunately, some Scottish lads bonded with them by displaying their own blank receipt, before commiserating with them over France losing in the World Cup final against Argentina, a dialogue ripe (from the Scottish side) with friendly F-bomb adjectives. 

Later, at the venue, because I'd purchased the tickets in an OVO presale, we got to use the OVO entrance. There, the queue was short. However, we had a slight delay as the pair in front of us were refused entry because their tickets were for the general entrance. As they had already queued and been frisked, I would have felt sorry for them had one of them not tried to intimidate the young G4S girl into letting them in. To her credit, she stood her ground and the pair reluctantly had to leave to make their way to the rather long queues at the main entrance. As I stepped forward for my security check, my frisker, yet again, failed to check under my hat. Not that there was anything there except my head but there could have been. An emergency McFlurry perhaps.

We got our wristbands and made our way to the toilets, the cold walk from the restaurant having shrunk our bladders. Then we headed into the arena. Finding a spot off-centre to the right,  close-ish to the front, we slowly edged closer to the stage trying to plug any gaps that appeared. As more people arrived, we prayed no one tall would squeeze their way in.

The support act, NewDad, was okay. Their music had an 80's Sonic Youth vibe but was a bit too indie for me. All the band were young, the two males possessing the same lush head of hair as the Frenchmen I'd seen earlier. It was great that Paolo had given them this opportunity to play in such a large venue. Oddly, as their drummer did his stuff, his mouth mimicked that of a goldfish, opening and closing to the beat. It was mesmerising to watch. 

After NewDad's set, we were indeed unlucky as multiple tall people pushed in, stopping ahead of us, reducing our view. I noticed one of the youths was so under the influence, one of his eyes was half shut, yet he possessed the energy of the Duracell bunny, pumping the air with his fists through most of Paolo's set. Many of my photos had to be deleted because of that arm (and the tall people's heads). 

Regardless, it was a great night.

Paolo has charisma oozing from every expression and a voice that is both divine and diabolic, capable of expressing fragility during tender folk ballads and rocking the roof off with primal roars ripped from his soul. Your eyes can't help but be drawn to his performance even though there is a whole band playing alongside him. The music was amazing. Most of the set came from the latest album and he reworked the older tunes to match the tone of his new stuff. Jenny Don't Be Hasty got rocked up, merging into Teenage Kicks then in New Shoes. The young crowd got most excited during the older songs. One bloke behind us kept shouting out a request for "Jew-lee-Aaaan" (a track from the latest album) starting mid-way through the set. I knew that song was coming in the encore but he didn't. Every time a song ended, he'd shout it out, over and over. On one occasion, one cheeky chappie shouted back "She's gone home", which raised a titter. Then, after Paolo had played Julieann, the bloke changed his request to "A-Bi-Gaiiiiiil". 

The screens throughout the night had a trippy, psychedelic feel with 70s-style Top of the Pops video effects played over them. It matched Paolo's look: all long hair, blue jeans, denim jacket (with Paisley Pattern patches on the front) over a black and white lined T-shirt. The audience, primarily in their teens/ twenties, loved him. He was their hero. 

I think he became mine too.

Ticket price: £58.45 each inc. fees.

Setlist (subject to third-party confirmation)

Afterneath

Lose It

Scream (Funk My Life Up)

Let Me Down Easy

Acid Eyes

Stranded Words (Interlude)

Radio

Heart Filled Up

Better Man

Through the Echoes

Johnny and Mary (Robert Palmer cover)

Coming Up Easy

Petrified in Love

Pencil Full of Lead

Jenny Don't Be Hasty / Teenage Kicks / New Shoes

Take Me Take Mine

Candy

Everywhere

Encore

Julianne

Iron Sky

Shine a Light

Caledonia (Dougie McLean cover) (acoustic)

Frankie Boyle: Work in Progress, The Stand, Glasgow. Sunday 11th December, 2022

After a late Saturday night at GUN at the Barrowlands, I enjoyed a lazy Sunday morning knowing I had this to look forward to in the afternoon.

Works in progress, by definition, can be hit or miss but they generally have a more relaxed vibe as the audience is aware the material is being tried out. Today, Frankie was testing the script for the End of Year edition of his BBC2 series, New World Order. Essentially, he read out the entire, printed-out script from a clipboard, including his opening monologue, links to all the clips they might use in the final edit and the end monologue. There was little chitchat with the audience, except to comment when he felt something wouldn't make the cut or to react to our reaction about the joke he just told. As anticipated, the material was dark, brutal and shoulder-shakingly funny. In this unedited version, the band U2 came in for some serious carnage involving the consequence of their helicopter flying over an active volcano. It will be interesting to see how much makes the final broadcast.

There was also a surprise support act, Ray Bradshaw, who performed a lot of funny but familiar material about having deaf parents. His chatty, relaxed style was conducive to big laughs and he set us up nicely for Frankie to do his stuff.

Ticket price: £15.

 

GUN, "The Calton Songs Tour 22", Barrowlands, Glasgow. Sat 10th December 2022

Despite arriving later than intended, we found a parking space near to the venue. The short walk was Baltic with a real chill in the air and black ice on the pavement (I nearly went on my arse twice). Fortunately, we didn't have to wait long outside as the queue was tiny by this time.

This, unfortunately, meant the security team were under no time pressure and my frisking official did his duty with forensic diligence, even locating two pockets in my wallet that I didn't even know existed. He demonstrated a determination hitherto unseen by concertgoers, akin to a junkie looking for a fix, as he pulled out my credit cards and sorted through the notes and coins searching for illegal contraband. His eagerness was probably the consequence of him finding the Wagg dog treats that I'd forgotten were in my change pocket, which he didn't believe weren't illicit. I commented, "a sniffer dog could tell you they're not drugs", but then realised that suggestion would backfire if put into practice, the excited dog wagging its tail for the snack, ending up with me getting a cavity search.  For all his fastidiousness though, he forgot to look under my hat, a small tip for all you drug mules out there.

Gin Annie, the second support act (we'd arrived too late to see the first one, Empyre), were excellent with a tight sound and great tunes. My wife didn't like them much because of all the gratuitous swearing, particularly from the guitarist (I'd never take her to see Biffy 'Fucking' Clyro). In a certain light, the lead singer could pass for Guz Khan in what became the first of three lookalikes of the evening.

The third support act, King Herd, disappointed me. I only enjoyed one of the songs, Halo. When the bassist and guitarist added their backing vocals, they were so out of tune, they sounded F**king Awful (as I later dubbed the band). By the end of their set, there were more audience eyes on their phones than the stage as people followed the final minutes of added time in the England World Cup game against France, the result coming through as the band left the stage. I like to think some of the muted cheers were for the band's departure.

The night's second lookalike came in the shape of the band's bassist, rocking some army reservist clobber, akin to Nick Frost in Spaced. 

I missed GUN's Barrowland show last year because I had to isolate after being in contact with someone with Covid so I was excited to see them (even though I'd caught them at their Hard Rock Cafe show recently). They'd had to cancel the two previous dates on the tour due to illness so I wasn't sure what kind of performance to expect. They'd also replaced Tommy on guitar for reasons never explained. 

When ACDC's It's a Long Way to the Top (If You Wanna Rock 'N' Roll) came on loud and clear, the excitement started to build. A plain white curtain formed a backdrop along the entire length of the stage. The lights went down and the image of a Chinese dragon flew across the backdrop, twisting and turning until eventually, it came for the audience, jaws widening, revealing the GUN logo. And we were off...

If they were under the weather, it didn't show. Dante's vocals were powerful (though later in the set you could sense they were beginning to crack) and the band rocked us loudly. The audience was loud too singing along to their anthems in a set more focused on the older songs, the ones written at the Calton. 

Introducing the second song, Dante had a cheeky wee pop at England, renaming it, "It's not Coming Home", followed by Vive La France, much to our amusement. 

They hadn't come on till 9.30 pm so fourteen songs later at 11 pm,  I figured they were going to have to cut the set short. But no, they kept playing, finishing on a high at ten past with Shame on You and Fight For Your Right ( to Party). Or Paaaaaaaaaar-tay, as we all screamed.

The third lookalike of the evening came in the shape of new/old guitarist Dave Aitken who I believe is a dead ringer for Ricky Warwick of Black Star Riders (albeit with fewer tattoos and longer hair).   

A great night and I managed to avoid falling on the way back to the car.

Setlist  (subject to confirmation - my memory's not that good)

Backstreet Brothers

Something to Believe in

Here's Where I Am

Coming Home

Seems Like I'm Losing You

Don't Say It's Over

Word Up! (Cameo cover)

Money to Burn

Watching the World Go By

Money (Everybody Loves Her)

Better Days

Inside Out

Steal Your Fire

Encore

Higher Ground (acoustic)

Taking on the World (acoustic then full band)

Shame on You

(You Gotta) Fight for Your Right (To Party!) (Beastie Boys cover)

Ticket Price £31.10

Gin Annie

King Herd

Here be dragons

Someone wants to ask a question

Vive La France

Sean Connery, a big fan of bunnets 

Paaaaaaaaaaaar-tay

Mark Thomas, "Black and White", The Stand, Glasgow. Thursday 1st December, 2022

A new tour from Mark Thomas but not necessarily all-new material. Revised would be a more appropriate term. Even though I'd seen him perform the same bits twice on the last tour, his passionate performance carried him through. his hotchpotch of gags, stories and political vehemence for the Tories still generating the requisite belly laughs and shoulder wobblers.

Tonight's message was to look after your communities because no one in power is going to do so. Before the interval, he encouraged us to consider what our song for Glasgow would be, our city anthem as it were, expecting us to come up with something for the second half. Someone immediately shouted, "Billy Connolly", confusing Mark as the Big Yin isn't a song. This was then followed up by "If it wisnae for yer wellies" sparking the crowd to launch spontaneously into a rendition of the song up to the chorus. A live moment that touched Mark's heart (and mine). 

A loud librarian also played a key role in proceedings tonight when she threw in the word bomb "Bastards" in response to something Mark said. Mark asked her to repeat it not having made out what she said. Three goes later another helpful punter translated the word for him: "illegitimate persons". Mark later dubbed her the Loudbrarian and invited her to chuck in her catchphrase at appropriate moments. 

My wife spotted the comedian Parrot in the audience sitting in front of us. He didn't offer to act as MC tonight, which was probably best for all of us. 

Although I may have heard Mark's Wimbledon AFC chants, his Barry Cryer stories, his gag about sharps bins (that wouldn't apply in GG&C) and all his tales about his mum, it was still a fantastic night of comedy. Exactly what I needed after not having my best day at work.

On the way home, a crash on the motorway brought traffic to a crawl. Three lanes out of four were strewn with debris. One car sat perpendicular to the traffic, its nose nudging the central crash barrier, another had been crushed in the rear and had people working on it to open the side doors. Other vehicles sat parked on all the affected lanes, their hazard lights flashing. No sign of police or ambulance yet on the scene. With only one lane open and everyone angling to go along it, one smartarse in a white Audi SUV overtook everyone, dashing up the hard shoulder. I reckoned this qualified him as the word Mark called the Tories. It began with C and wasn't Conservative. 

Nuff said.