The Sisters of Mercy, Barrowlands, Glasgow. Thursday 23rd November 2023

This gig was originally scheduled for Wednesday 22nd November at SWG3 but got switched "due to phenomenal demand" when the original night sold out so quickly. A wise move as they managed to fill the Barrowlands too.

I'd never seen them before live yet still felt nostalgic when I heard they were coming to town. You see, back in my youth, in the late '80s, I used to play the Cyberpunk 2020 RPG. I had a character called Sloan, a fixer who owned The Rainbow's End, a nightclub in a seedy part of Night City, where bands such as the Ghosts of Elvis played regularly. Sloan had a mohawk, a kaftan and a way with the ladies. During these sessions, The Sisters of Mercy became our regular background music while we roleplayed hacking into Corporation data fortresses, taking out security details and assassinating high-profile targets for profit. We were street punks with lofty ambitions. Not everyone survived.

Anyway...

I had low expectations for this gig after reading the recent tour reviews. The guitarist had been sacked mid-set during one gig and feedback suggested Andrew Eldritch's vocals were not up to scratch. But you still go along and judge it for yourself.

The Virginmarys were on support duties. No messing about. Two blokes on the stage, one with guitar, the other on drums. Their punk rock sound could have been distilled from the spirit of Dave Grohl in his more shouty days. I enjoyed them. At least this time, they didn't burst my eardrums, figuratively speaking.

A colleague had warned me I might not get to see the band given the copious amounts of dry ice the band were known to use on stage. That didn't happen so much tonight. They varied the lighting and colour scheme with dry ice evident but not overpowering. I liked the music, helped in part thanks to the crowd around me being really up for a good time. They were a mix of young ones, old rockers, punks and ladies with coloured hair, tattoos and black lipstick. They danced, whistled and shouted out the lyrics. It was hot and sweaty.

Andrew Eldritch made no effort to engage the crowd, never once mentioning the city name, giving us a solitary thank you at the end of the set. His vocals were as I expected, growly and muffled. The two guitarists seemed content to play their part, the new replacement happily bouncing about, even once knocking into Andrew, triggering a tense moment when the singer waited for an apology. I sensed another imminent sacking. But the band played on and Andrew got on with it. No choice really when the drum machine and bass are playing from a laptop. Not much room for improvisation.

The set was different to what I expected with more of the well-known songs mixed in rather than being at the beginning and end. I had a good night. 

I also got to meet the real-life Sloan, with his mohawk (but no kaftan) and cool, stylish girlfriend, straight from my Cyberpunk character sheet. It felt like I was back at The Rainbow's End nightclub watching the Ghosts of Elvis again. Afterwards, he told me how much he loved the band and how this was his first time seeing them, having always missed their tours while working abroad. I wanted to ask for their picture for this blog but bottled it. It would have been difficult to explain why. Nevertheless, here they are. 

Ticket Price: £48.20 (after fees, and souvenir ticket) from Ticketmaster. Face value: £36.50. 

(performance: 1hr 20 mins)

Setlist 

Doctor Jeep / Detonation Boulevard

Don't Drive on Ice

Ribbons

Alice

Summer

Dominion

I Will Call You

Marian

Giving Ground (The Sisterhood cover)

Eyes of Caligula

More

But Genevieve

I Was Wrong

Here

When I'm on Fire

On the Beach

Temple of Love

Encore:

Lucretia My Reflection

This Corrosion

The Virginmarys

There's always one tit
who pushes in before the main act

He wasn't singing 'I'm a little teapot'

Trevor Noah, Off The Record Tour, OVO Hydro, Glasgow. Tuesday 21st November 2023

I have history with Trevor Noah. 

The first time I saw him was in 2012 at the Soho Theatre in London for his show,The Racist. I particularly remember it because we arrived early and were near the front of the queue only to discover when we got to the downstairs door that my email confirmation of ticket purchase was insufficient for entrance. I had to go back up the stairs to the box office to pick up the actual tickets while the rest of the massive queue for the sold-out show filed into the room. Fortunately, the bouncer let my then-girlfriend in to save us two seats. That gig was rowdy but still brilliant. You could see even then why he was such a success back home in South Africa. 

I was next due to see him at the SEC Armadillo in 2015 but that tour was cancelled when he was offered (and accepted) hosting duties on The Daily Show, taking over from Jon Stewart.

Tonight's gig was originally scheduled for Wednesday, 9 September 2020 but it got rearranged because of the Pandemic. A number of dates were cancelled altogether but he managed to avoid that for Glasgow. I wondered if it was because he felt bad at cancelling last time but more likely it was because the only tickets remaining at that time were Platinum ones at £145 a pop. 

A lot can happen in three years. For one thing, the show's title changed a couple of times so I had no idea what material he would perform tonight. 

I hadn't paid for Platinum tickets but was happy enough with my seats in the third row of block 004. I kinda forgot that sitting on the left that close to the stage meant having to turn your neck at a 45-degree angle for most of the show. It would be great if the seats swivelled.

The other downside to having seats so near the front is you get to leave the arena last. Everyone else is in front of you on the way out. 

Before the show, two young girls sat in front of us in row B. They were black and chatty and Face Timed their momma to show her where they were sitting and tell her how excited they were. They were still on the phone to her when the people who'd paid for those seats turned up. The girls should have been in row BB, not B. The now-involved security man had to escort them to their own seats. If only they had just moved over when the attendees approached them, they could have stayed at the front because it appeared that not many of the Platinum seats had sold, the front row remaining fairly barren. My wife remarked that maybe those ticket holders hadn't survived the postponement, a joke also made later by Trevor.

His support act was Wil Sylvince, a New York comic, who swaggered onto the stage to warm us up for fifteen minutes. He was surprised to discover how many non-white people had come along, something that surprised me too. It was very much a multicultural audience with every race represented, much more varied than my usual gig experience. That reflected Trevor's inclusive demographic, appealing to everyone. Wil reminded me of Richard Pryor in that most of his material centred on him being black and the experiences that arose from that. He did his job well.

Trevor is such a brilliant stand-up, he makes it look so effortless. He just tells stories about his funny encounters, using his talents for mimicry to depict all the people he meets, such as the Glasgow ned who wanted a photo, the London airport security jobsworth who hassled him over his unprinted boarding pass, the Parisien airline employee who persuaded him he didn't need his lost luggage, and the Berlin tour guide, who cringed every time Trevor asked him what the building was used for before. In less experienced hands, his accents could become racist caricatures but he does them so well that he ensures we identify with them as a person not as a people. 

Towards the end, he invited questions from the audience. After receiving a few non-question call-outs, with him having to explain what he meant by a question, he regaled us with a few more stories explaining his answer or opinion. It might have been rehearsed material, part of his set, but it didn't feel that way. It felt more like bonus material, akin to his Behind The Scenes segments on the Daily Show. He was giving us our money's worth after having waited so long to see him.

A great show, with him performing for around one hour forty-five, finishing at 10.30 pm.

As is my thing, I like to report on the people around me. This time two black women were seated on my left. One had a neat bob and the other, the one beside me, had a dreadlock beehive that tumbled over her right shoulder like twisty brown lava from a volcano. She was big and wasn't shy about sharing my personal space, her elbow rubbing against my love handle whenever she moved, for example when she stuffed her face with chips or reached down for her pint. Not that I could smell either substance as her scent overpowered everything. As Raymond Chandler could have written, "The dame smelled like vanilla but she was chocolate through and through". The pair had such a laugh, in hysterics at everything Trevor said. They kept commenting on his jokes as if they were appearing on Gogglebox. The nearer one even took to shouting out Trevoah at the end of each big laugh as if that was his nickname, not just how she pronounced his name. I'm sure they must have thought the whities beside them were awfully reserved and didn't know how to enjoy themselves. But we did. We just did it in our own way, along with all the other cultures in attendance. 

Ticket Price: £113.50 plus £5.95 Collector Ticket from Ticket Master. 

(The collector ticket was a plastic card that clipped onto a black lanyard, with the seat details on one side and the ticket barcode on the other, along with the SSE Hydro logo - yes, they were sent out that long ago, when the venue still had the old sponsor)  

Tour Poster

Holy Moly & The Crackers, UK "The Last Rodeo" Tour 2023, Centre of Contemporary Arts (CCA), Glasgow. Saturday 18th November, 2023

A sad day when a band you've loved decide to go on indefinite hiatus with the following statement:

"Hey friends. We've been building up to telling you this, and it's hard to say, but we've decided, after our remaining dates, to take indefinite time off the road. We've been going full throttle for over 10 years, and now it’s time to put some love and care into other projects ...   

Ruth Lyon has started to make a name as a solo artist. Her music has been described by the likes of Line Of Best Fit as “offbeat, sophisticated anti-folk”. Big things are happening next year. Squeezebox Rosie is starting a new business Fantasy Fibre Mill, growing and spinning her own flax crop into sustainable regenerative linen yarn and clothes! Tommy Arch, on the pots and pans, is kicking out on his own, re-born as a soulful country vagabond. There are rumours on the psychedelic grapevine that Nicky's band Alian Pizza Van will beaming back down to earth next year.  You’ll find bass player Phoebe, drinking red wine in a long black coat playing bluegrass festival near you, with her old-time duo, Errant Moose. Conrad, band founder and dancing monkey, in his own words, is "off fishing” … 

We started this band in 2009 for a laugh, a way to avoid life’s responsibility for a summer, in a small, smoky kitchen in Leamington Spa! What a trip it's been since. We will never be able to thank you enough for the love, support and encouragement you have given to us. It has been the experience of our lives. We hope to be back one day with new records and new memories to make, but for now, let’s get sweaty for the last rodeo ... 

All dates (including two special shows in London and Newcastle next year) are on sale. Please don't miss out on this tour, it really is the last chance to dance - www.holymolyandthecrackers.com

But, we won’t say goodbye, only see you down the road. X"

And so the Solid Gold Tour became The Last Rodeo Tour.

The three of us began our evening in Taste of Chennai, the new Indian restaurant in the former Kama Sutra site on Sauchiehall Street. It was handy for the venue, the CCA, which was just across the street. I thought the venue doors opened at 7.00 pm so we didn't head over till 7.15 pm. Turns out the correct opening time was 7.30 pm, later delayed to 7.40 pm. Some people (my wife) get annoyed by the wait but I was pleased. We were first in the queue. Result!

I chose to stand behind the retractable barrier where four reserved seats had been placed (later extended to eight). There was a space in front of them but I kept my fingers crossed that people would be too polite to stand in front of the infirm who'd been provided the seating in an otherwise standing-only venue.

The room at the CCA felt like a good space for a concert, with a high ceiling but otherwise compact, the stage raised sufficiently high for the band to be seen. A ramp on the right reminded me that lead singer Ruth had mobility issues and that, the last time we saw the band, in Audio, Conrad had had to carry her onto the stage in a fireman's lift. Such undignified means would not be required tonight.   

Tommy Arch provided tonight's support. Just him and his guitar, with little preparation in the way of banter. He came across like an adept busker, singing and playing mostly his own material. I was a bit bored and, at one point, discovered my leg had gone to sleep. I nearly toppled over when it failed to provide the support I expected. He would probably come across better accompanied by a full band. (I'd forgotten he was also Holy Moly's drummer).

The crowd was sparse for the support but filled nicely by the time the band took to the stage at 9 o'clock. It wasn't a sell-out but those that were there made up for it with volume and enthusiasm. I never noticed Ruth in her electric buggy as she zipped towards the ramp, the rest of the band using the steps, so Bob had to nudge me out of the way. Sorry, Ruth.  

Then the party started. They totally lived up to their blurb: Holy Moly and the Crackers are the fiery folk-rockers who have become renowned for their blazing live shows with influences by the honest grit of Woody Guthrie, the gypsy burlesque of Gogol Bordello & the spectral clarity of Joni Mitchell. 

The band dynamic is full of energy, bouncing about, revelling in their music. It shows in their faces how much they enjoy their performances. Conrad's loving glances towards Ruth conveyed his deep respect for her. I can totally understand where he's coming from. Her voice is beguiling. It's sad to think they'll soon be gone, as Ruth chases a solo career. Conrad declared they'd of course be back one day but I could sense his feeling of loss. 

It was another great gig, albeit bittersweet and short. 

There were a few oddballs in the crowd. One older gentleman with a gammy leg walked across the space in front of the stage and attempted to climb onto the ramp, initially over, then under the retractable barrier. Struggling, he eventually managed it and proceeded to stagger up the slope, taking pictures of the band. I wondered how far he would get before security intervened. They didn't need to. He stopped just short of the stage, took his pictures then retired down the ramp, where he danced and clapped awkwardly to the music, eventually slipping back under the barrier, returning to his original position on the far side. Fair play to him, he got what he wanted. 

After the show, a punter lifted the nearest setlist from the stage. I noticed three others elsewhere and expressed a desire to have one. Bob did the honours for me, heading up the ramp to remove the one on the right. Cheers mate. 

Ticket Price: £15 (£17.62 inc fees, from See Tickets). 

Setlist:

Videos:

Come On Down

Naked In Budapest

Cold Comfort Lane

Photos:

Support, Tommy Arch

 

Holy Moly & The Crackers

Calls for the guitarist to return having forgotten the bow

The last bow for Glasgow

Rhys Darby, 25 Years. Glasgow Pavilion, Tuesday 7th November, 2023

This Kiwi comic was another one on my bucket list. I'd never caught him during his Edinburgh Fringe days and, now that his acting career has taken off, he doesn't tour much so I jumped at the chance to see him in Glasgow. Knowing this was a best-of retrospective, I deliberately didn't rewatch any of his old shows, not wanting to be overfamiliar with the material.   

It's been a long time since I've been in the stalls at The Pavilion. The last time was probably to see Goodbye Mr Mackenzie back in the days when Shirley Manson was singing with them (I particularly remember her gyrating on her knees on the stage - can't think why). Back then, I was at Uni and probably didn't sit in my seat for very long. I certainly don't recall the seat being snug. Tonight, the armrests are gripping my love handles. When I have to rise to let a latecomer into the row, I have to make an effort to remove myself from the chair. I pitied the poor folk who were bigger than me, with their shoulders scrunched up, wedged between the people on either side. One larger gentleman appeared to have booked himself two seats and even then had to sit at an angle otherwise he would have smothered the young lady on his left. What I'm saying is Pavilion, you're going to need to modernise and give us bigger seats. We ain't getting any smaller.

The show opened with Janey Godley who did a fifteen-minute slot much to the appreciation of her home crowd. She may have terminal cancer but she's still got remarkable comedy chops and doesn't give a f*ck. She then introduced the first act, Steve Wrigley, another friend of Rhys and a fellow Kiwi. I'd never heard of him but he was good. The audience loved his humour.

Then we had an interval so the Pavilion could sell us fatties more confectionary and ice cream. How very Glasgow, providing more calories to people who already could barely fit into their seats. Actually, it could be more Glasgow. Here's a tip for your suggestion box, Pavilion management, add deep-fried Mars bars to the menu. 

Janey returned to introduce her old pal, Rhys Darby. If you don't know his comedy, his style is similar to Eddie Izzard, acting out increasingly outlandish scenarios and relating the characters' surreal and silly exchanges (only he does it in more sensible shoes and with less lipstick). He's a great physical comedian who also does sounds: the 'robot', three different types of doors and even the beep made by a self-checkout till. Themes and characters recur for comic effect building a strong set, despite it being cribbed from all of his shows over the years. 

The audience was obviously huge fans of his work and showed it with frequent cheers and rounds of applause but never to the extent of ruining the show. It was a fabulous night of comedy made all the more special by overrunning by a good half hour.

The drive home was an ordeal. Road closures and multiple car accidents added to the chaos. I did spot a man eating his pizza out of the box at a bus stop and thought, he looks like he's playing Battleships because of the way the lid was angled. Then we nearly decorated the car's radiator with a fox stole when the animal heard the first part of the joke "Why did the chicken cross the road?" and decided to look for itself. 

Janey Godley

Steve Wrigley

Rhys Darby

Ticket Price: £37.85 (direct from venue)

Promo blurb:

Rhys Darby: 25 Years

2023 marks Rhys Darby’s silver jubilee in standup comedy, so he has been taking a look at all his favourite material for the past quarter century. Rhys will be bringing this retrospective show to the UK this year!.

When asked about it Rhys said, “You’ve seen my standup, now see it again!”

Darby is one of NZ’s most successful comedy exports. Starting in Christchurch in the 90s, he has performed his unique style of storytelling all over the world. Ten years into his career North Americans discovered him via Flight of the Conchords. He has starred in blockbusters like the Jumanji franchise, indie hits like Hunt for the Wilderpeople and is currently starring in Our Flag Means Death with long-time collaborator Taika Waititi.

Rhys is never far from his standup roots. He has released five comedy specials and this show will draw from all five of them. In addition to stand-up and acting, he has also written four books, This Way to Spaceship, a loosely autobiographical novel, and three kids' books about his alter ego Buttons McGinty. He also has an irregular podcast, The Cryptid Factor which is all about cryptozoology, the science of hidden animals.

Jimmy Carr. Terribly Funny 2.0, SEC Armadillo, Glasgow. Friday 3rd November 2023

Jimmy Carr has an incredible mind for joke writing, especially when mining the dark corners of society's taboos, so it's always fun to hear the audience's reactions to his comedy. He is supremely confident on stage and knows exactly how to take down any heckler. Every line, every pause, every expression is there to serve the laugh, the giggle, the hoot and the guffaw.

We had two tickets to his show (which was convenient as there were two of us). JLS had sold out the OVO Hydro next door so, on the way to the Armadillo, as we passed through the Red Smartie tube, we had to endure a deafening mass of chattering young ladies dressed in belt skirts and black jackets.  A few were silent but only because they were sucking on vapes, sending vapour plumes into the air like steam trains (or possibly steaming trains). It was the first time I felt I needed ear protectors before a gig.

It didn't take long to get into the venue, though the queues for the bar were so long they came out to meet me in the vestibule. I think the gig might have been delayed because of this, with Jimmy not coming on at 8pm as advertised but nearer 8.20 pm. 

Our seats were good: middle of the middle stalls. The man sitting beside me on my right had packed all his laughter vowels, starting with ha-ha-ha (like a Scottish Sid James), moving onto hee hee hee (high pitched, like a little girl), finishing with ho ho ho (like an asthmatic Santa) before erupting with a wheezy fit of coughing. I'm sure the alcohol was purely medicinal to quell his COPD. He was so up for this gig, he even shouted out a heckle as Jimmy came on stage. I sank a little in my chair, thinking, "Oh dear, here's one". Fortunately, that was the start and finish of his audience participation. 

I felt the first half of the show was too long, the punishing frequency of gag after gag beginning to hurt. The second half was looser, with more audience interaction to slow up the joke rate and was more enjoyable for it. Near the end, he regaled us with the jokes that nearly had him cancelled (all of which I'd heard) then finished with a series of texts that people had sent in, displaying them for him (and us) to read from the big screen. Many seemed scripted ie written by him to ensure the section was funny, but a few were definitely from the audience. One girl had texted in that she had dislocated her ankle and broken her foot in three places during sex after she jumped off her partner when the door went. When Jimmy enquired incredulously if this was true, she produced her walking cane to prove it. Why she felt the need to share this particular anecdote with three thousand others, I have no idea.  

Overall, the show was incredibly good value, with two hours of laughter, packed with funny, well-told and suitably dark jokes. The one that drew the biggest ooh from the audience was: "What's the best thing to remove chewing gum from hair? Cancer." Ouch! 

On the way out, I spotted a FB pal, someone from my school days, and waved. He nodded back but obviously didn't recognise me. He and his wife walked on, leaving me once again thinking I remain the anonymous punter. 

Ticket Price: £79.20 for two tickets via Ticketmaster (bloody fees - Face value £32.50)