Maisie may have changed her hairstyle, but she's still a naturally comedic tour-de-force.
She had no support act. She did the first half herself. She didn't use any prepared material (she didn't need to), spending the entire forty minutes doing crowd work. On paper, it sounded like standard stuff: What's your name? Where are you from? What do you do? Is this your partner? How did you meet? How long have you been together? - the kind of thing a support act relies on to pad time. She made it consistently funny. I laughed a lot during this section, mainly due to one gem of an audience member, one the geologist in the front row would have appreciated as it took the heat off him. What was most surprising, though, was that this person was not in the front row or even close to the front but was, in fact, at the back.
Marcus, from Pocklington (but living in Glasgow), trained in Contemporary Performance Practice (wanky theatre) at the Royal Conservatoire of Scotland but was now working in the gift shop at the Science Museum, whose best-seller is bouncy balls. His simpering voice filled the room without the need for amplification. His every reply was naturally absurd. When asked to give an example of what CPP was, he told us that for his final exam, he dressed as a werewolf and performed cabaret. Are you dressing up as a werewolf for Halloween? Maisieasked. "No, unfortunately, the Halloween party has a witch theme. My costume has a witchy / Victorian governess kind of vibe." At one point, you could have been forgiven for thinking they were a double act, and she was the straight person (no homophobia intended).
The second half was very much prepared material. And boy, can she pack a lot of words in. Her mouth hardly stopped. While many of her chosen topics were commonplace (babies, friendship groups, ageing parents, hen do's), her vivacious personality and comedic delivery sold it to the room. Showing a high degree of skill, many times she weaved in references to audience members, the Forth Valley becoming a running joke. I loved how far she extended her comparison of baby photos and dick pics. That was smartly observed writing.
I love that she loves her job and that she's so self-deprecating. I also loved how her spin on Michael Macintyre's The Wheel led to the amusing video finale, which I won't spoil. You'll have to witness that with your own mince pies.
On the basis of tonight's performance, I'd grade her appraisal as exceptional.
Blurb
Stand-up show Maisie Adam: Appraisal will tour between September and November 2024.
The comedian's promoters say: "After her previous completely sold out, highly acclaimed debut tour, and fresh from hosting Live At The Apollo and appearances on A League Of Their Own and Have I Got News For You, Maisie Adam is heading back out on tour with her brand new show, Appraisal.
"It's been a meteoric rise through the comedy ranks for Maisie and she's fast on her way to becoming a household name. Stand-up is what she loves most and she's now five years into her job as a comedian, so perhaps she's due an appraisal. Appraisal will be the ultimate performance review, where we'll see just why she was awarded Best New Act and nominated Best Newcomer...or, is she heading towards an 'organisational restructure'?"
I used to think I got ill because of stress at work. It turns out I just have a weak constitution. After three consecutive nights out, I've picked up a lurgy that makes my voice sound like I've been possessed by Beelzebub. But that won't stop me from attending this gig (no cough, no fever, just a voice that could do cinema voiceovers). Nor will Storm Ashley with her 60 mph winds. I think I can counter that with a curry at Koolba, a restaurant opposite the Old Fruitmarket. Tam Cowan is in there too, sampling their fare, including a final glass of red wine for the road, which he didn't drink, possibly believing they would pour it on the cobbles after he left, VAT receipt in hand.
I had done no research about Urzila prior to attending her gig. I hadn't watched her Netflix special or any of her routines on YouTube. I didn't know if she was a vulgar comic, a musical act, a one-liner or a storyteller. The only facts about her that I knew were that she was from South Africa, now lived in New Zealand and was friends with Melanie Bracewell (a Kiwi comic that I caught this year at the Fringe).
Despite being a sell-out, there were a few gaps in the audience. Perhaps train cancellations were to blame, or maybe those people bottled it, unwilling to witness her vulgarity in person. For example, she describes her job as saying 'Cunt' to people sitting in the dark. Her set includes an extended bit about her recent Amy Schumer film experience where they wanted her to have grey hair (spoiler: her hair won't colour!). She also talked about the task she did on the NZ Taskmaster, which won her the accolade of being the only contestant to break a bone during a task. She's a lesbian, but she would willingly give up the lady flaps if she married a male lottery billionaire. In return for allowing her to retire, she'd promise him three blowjobs a day (she obviously wouldn't do the task herself (cue gag reflex) - she'd outsource it to a young homosexual boy as they know how to give the best BJs).
Bizarrely, her smoothed South African accent and her laugh remind me of Belinda Bauer, the crime author. Not that Belinda would go into extended detail about her attempts to shave her lady parts using a mirror and a Boots-bought, two-blade Bic razor to impress a new partner. I imagine she would keep that private.
An interpreter for the deaf joined Urzila on stage for the entire show ("Because it's important"). For once, the comedian does not draw humour from having the interpreter sign the rude bits. She's largely ignored, except when Urzila takes a drink of water. At that point, the interpreter drinks, too, creating an almost choreographed mirror image (not that the reflections match).
Urzila is quite the force of nature. She makes no apologies for crossing the line of decency, and the predominantly female audience laps it up. Was I entertained? Undoubtedly. Would I pay to see her again? Maybe not. I don't think I'm her demographic. At least she reminded me that men get breast cancer, too.
Performance length: 1hr 40 mins.
Ticket Price from Glasgow Life Tickets £17.50 x 2, plus Online Transaction Fee £1.50, plus Booking Fee £4.20 Total (GBP) £40.70
Two brothers reform their band, which split during the 90s, and tour. Sound familiar?
No, it's not Oasis playing Drygate in Glasgow at £18.50 a ticket (there is no greedy dynamic pricing for this gig). These guys are from Liverpool, but they did play a part in making the Oasis boys the superstars they became.
I was apprehensive about attending this gig. The RAF roundel, in their name, suggested 'mod' music, which was reinforced by the clothes the band wore on the poster. I have a history there going back to a Saxon gig in the eighties where a gang of mods came looking for trouble outside the Apollo and chased a group of us down to the Savoy Centre in Sauchiehall Street, resulting in one of us needing hospital attention. This tarnished my view of the whole mod musical scene with their Adidas/ Fred Perry T-shirts, posh clobber and fancy sideburns.
I'm sitting upstairs in Drygate. The room where the band is due to play is empty because all the fans are in the bar. A superfan is holding court at the bench table next to mine when one of the brothers appears. Warmly greeting the superfan, he gets introduced to everyone at the table. It's a lovely moment to witness one of the originals saying hello. It sets the friendly tone for the evening. I begin to relax.
Hardly anyone comes through to see the support act, The Belugas. From their accents, the band sounds local. The lead singer has more charisma than the rest of the band combined. The guitarist and bassist look nervous, like it's a school concert and they need to concentrate on playing. Either that or they don't understand that they need to sell their performance to win the crowd's time investment. Overall, much like caviar, the Belugas were not to my taste. They were lacklustre.
The sparse crowd grows substantially by the time The Real People take the stage—not that it's busy. The venue seems bigger than necessary for the size of the crowd. Initially, it was scheduled to take place at Broadcast, but that Glasgow venue closed due to flooding. I take up a position close to the front. A core group of fans are ahead of me, but my view is still clear. One notable lady, clutching her 7" vinyl and T-shirt, busts her moves directly in front of the band. Another in a Barcelona sports jacket dances like she has Tourettes, all spiky moves and leg jerks. I wonder if this is how mods dance.
The band is excellent. With the two brothers on dual vocal duties, the rhythm section providing a solid, driving beat, and the two young guitarist and keyboard players giving it their all, the band produces a tight, powerful sound. I have no prior knowledge of their songs, but I enjoy them nonetheless. It is easy to hear where Oasis took their influence (need I remind you, this band predates Oasis).
They play for a solid hour and a quarter and finish bang at 10 p.m. The crowd doesn't disperse, expecting an encore, but the band don't return. The lack of change in the audience lighting doesn't help matters (the fairy lights, strung across the entire ceiling, were not switched off during the performance). Eventually, they realise the show is over and depart.
I really enjoyed The Real People, much to my relief and surprise. Worth checking out.
Setlist
(At Drygate, not the O2 Academy)
Video
The Truth
Ticket Price: Free (a gift from Kenny, cheers mate). Face Value £18.50.
A busy, wet Friday night in Glasgow meant me driving around the city centre looking for somewhere free to park, finding the only empty parking spaces reserved for the disabled. Frustratingly, there were places with single yellow lines, which would have been available except for the signs indicating parking was suspended. It was only after doing a couple of circuits that I noticed the dates on the signs had already passed, so I managed to stop on a street near the venue.
I joined the queue waiting in the rain outside the venue, bodies pressed against the building to keep dry for those of us without umbrellas. The staff let us in early, and we formed two lines inside the venue in front of each of the doors. I joined the second queue, skipping further ahead than I had been outside. My smugness was punctured when the staff then only opened the other door, that line flowing in while we stood exasperated at being left behind. Eventually, the staff apologised and told us to go in too.
Not a good start, but I still managed to find a place near the front without any really tall people ahead of me. I had a clear view of the central microphone. Beside me on my left was a father with his young girl, who could only have been about fourteen. The bubbly redhead on my right was with her two friends. She must have taken about forty selfies of herself before thinking about including her friends. Oh, to be young and beautiful! Ahead of me, many of the crowd had tote bags and lanyards: the VIPs who had paid extra for a preshow meet and greet, and access to the soundcheck.
The first support act was Kerr Mercer. A Glasgow lad, he sang mournful ballads akin to Lewis Capaldi, acknowledging his set was full of them. He played one cover, Paolo Nutini's Last Request, and did it justice. His confidence on stage was palpable, disclosing, although he hadn't yet released any material, he'd already headlined at King Tut's, SWG3 and St Luke's and was next due to play at The Garage. Not bad for a homegrown talent.
Next up was Inverness lassie Katie Gregson-MacLeod. Adept on the keyboards and guitar, she, too, played a set of personal songs about relationships and heartbreak. She admitted she would change the names when recording the songs, but she hadn't done so yet, so we were getting an exclusive dose of her reality. She'd used her phone to act as a timer so she didn't overrun her set. During her last song, she realised she hadn't switched off the alarm noise and had a fit of the giggles when it went off, sharing the joke with us by holding her phone to the microphone. "Dring, dring, dring". She, too, is coming back to Glasgow later in the year, but the show hasn't been announced officially yet, so she couldn't tell us about it.
Unusually, the father and daughter left their spot before Nina came on. I figured the young girl didn't want to find the Ladies on her own, so her dad went with her. Next, I saw two staff members rushing an unconscious small person horizontally backstage, the father right behind them. She must have fainted. Such a shame.
On Nina's last tour, I felt the show lacked balance, a series of ballads that sounded beautiful but didn't energise the audience. Fortunately, with Mountain Music (her new album), she has recognised this by writing a number of faster numbers, and this benefitted tonight's set. Her confidence has grown, too, and she talked more between numbers, explaining how the songs came to be and what they meant to her.
I did wonder about the set dressing, specifically the backdrop. Three jumpers and one dress hung from coat hangers on the curtain. Had they run out of room in the dressing room, or had they got wet on the way into the gig and left there to drip dry? Their presence was never explained.
The show wasn't as exciting as Seb Lowe the previous night, but music can serve different needs at different times. This was more about beautiful harmonies and personal lyrics. Despite being a self-confessed introvert, she knows how to engage with her audience. I enjoyed myself.
The merch stall was too busy to see anything, so I bypassed it and went home. Only later did I realise I'd also bought her CD along with the ticket. I'm now onto Ticketmaster to check if there is a way to still get it (not that I need it, given I can stream the album).
Setlist
The Apple Tree
Pages
On The Run
Anger
Painkiller
Treachery
Hard Times
Big Things, Small Town (included an extra verse about Glasgow)
Mansion
Parachute
Encore:
What Will Make Me Great (Solo)
Alchemise
Last December (included extra verse)
The Best You Had
Caledonia
I'm Coming Home
Videos
Pages
Anger
Coming Home
Ticket Price via Ticketmaster.
1 Full Price Ticket £18.00 Nina Nesbitt - CD Album £11.00 Service Charge x1 £1.80 Order Processing Fees Handling Fee £1.35 Total £32.15
Lighting a candle Nina's calming alternative to a stage pyro
Occasionally, a random flick through the new releases on Amazon Music will turn up a gem, leading to a curious search for nearby gigs. This is what happened with Seb Lowe, whose EP "Make Me Your National Anthem," released on October 4th, 2024, led me to buy tickets to this show at the Liquid Rooms, Edinburgh.
The journey to the venue became an ordeal. Leaving during rush hour, my sat nav kept recalculating the route to avoid traffic, taking us eventually through Barrhead onto the M77 at Darnley. In Edinburgh, it attempted to take me down a blocked-off side road, so so much for Ford's subscription live service. The 20 mph speed limit in Edinburgh's back streets was a killer, too, but at least it gives the Council an excuse not to repair the roads. It also allows pedestrians plenty of time to walk in front of oncoming traffic.
So we arrived at the venue later than expected. As we waited on Victoria Street behind a small gathering of fans within view of the doors, I never thought the queue streaming from the Beer Garden lane would ever end, with more and more savvy youngsters getting into the venue before us.
I needn't have fretted.
Inside, the venue had two levels (floor and balcony), so the space was not too cramped, helped by the fact that the show had not sold out. The floor level was oversaturated with throat-choking dry ice, bathing everyone in prime-coloured lighting. We managed to find a good spot in the middle of the room with a clear view of the raised stage.
The venue had a strict 10 p.m. curfew, so support act The Guest List, a young, nineties-inspired indie band from Manchester, came on at 7.45 pm and played their set to a respectful audience. The only time I saw the lead singer smile was when, between songs, he picked up his guitar when he shouldn't have. Their sound owes a debt to Oasis, which isn't bad thing. They've actually got more followers on YouTube than Seb Lowe, which I found surprising (69k vs 11k).
After the band left the stage, their drummer returned to hand over his drumsticks personally to a girl at the front. Her squeal of delight was heartwarming.
Between acts, I felt like a grandad, surrounded by so many kids. I'd entered a land where pronouns were serious but not obvious. 80s music, such as Belinda Carlisle and Madonna, played over the PA, getting a sing-a-long reaction from the young audience despite them not even being alive when it was chart-topping. The freakiest bit was when everyone started singing and doing the moves to a song I'd never heard before. I opened Shazam to identify it but got a tap on the shoulder, the helpful lad behind me explaining it was HOT TO GO! by Chappell Roan. I was also asked by another girl if I was a reporter. She'd seen me making notes on my phone and wondered. These young things are not shy.
The excitement rose to ecstatic by the time Seb Lowe took to the stage at 8.45 p.m. If I was bewildered by how the crowd knew all the lyrics to the eighties songs, I was blown away by how well they sang along to these songs. The passionate performance of the leading man and his band revved up the party atmosphere.
To say his songs have a political edge would be an understatement. Any Tories or monarchists in the room would have left with lacerations such is the sharpness of his lyrics. I loved how much the band showed their joy at playing their songs. The elegant and demure Kate Couriel couldn't stop laughing after Seb ripped his trousers climbing back onto the stage. I wished her microphone had been louder during Mr and Mrs Human Race because her voice is lovely. Seb had trouble with his earpieces, the cord getting caught up with his guitar strap whenever he put the guitar down. The roadie had a great time trying to help him.
I know Seb's music is not aimed particularly at my generation, but I left feeling like I'd witnessed a modern event. It was a great night of pop music. At this moment in time, they are the future of music, and I was glad to be there.
On the road home, my Ford sat nav alerted me to two out of the three M8 road closures. Thank heavens, my wife downloaded the Waze app to guide me through Stepps because all the Ford one wanted me to do was return to the motorway.
We still got home before midnight.
Setlist Jump Scare I Fell In Love With a Talking Head The Royal Family Personality Test Kill him (he's a Socialist) Love Bomb Football Players Ode to Britannia The Education System (Acoustic) Freak. (Acoustic) 5168 Days Mr & Mrs Human Race Make Me Your National Anthem iPhone (With 'HOT TO GO' section) Terms and Conditions Outro music: Dancing Queen (ABBA song)
Jump Scare & I Fell In Love With a Talking Head
Love Bomb
Ticket Price via TicketWeb.
2 x General Admission = £27.00 Service Fee £2.70 Delivery Fee (UK Post) £2.05 Total£31.75
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