I could have been at Kylie tonight, but I went to see this guy instead. I'm not sure why an unfamiliar New York comedian took preference, but there you go.
The acoustics in the 02 Academy suck for comedians. The sound booms, killing any comic intimacy. Not that support act Doug Key required that, with his material mainly focusing on his sexual exploits and their consequences. He struggled to warm up the audience with jokes about the birth of his son, breastfeeding, lube and dildoes. I liked one gag in his routine concerning first-date sex with a porn star, a neat call back relating her sexual kink and her apartment, but the rest left me cold. I had no desire to buy one of his stickers after the show.
Before the show, I knew little about Mark Normand. I'd watched twenty minutes of his standup on YouTube and figured he knew his stuff. He had some great lines, making funny connections on relatable topics. The blurb compared him to Jerry Seinfeld, but he's not. Yes, his material is beautifully written and well delivered, but I don't see Jerry making as many jokes about religions, trans people, and women. Mark's not a shock comedian in the style of, say, the excellent Doug Stanhope, but he mines a vein of comedy that's on the safe side of that border. Things 'Ya Don't Say' sums him up well.
His audience was predominantly young and male. My wife likened them to the Andrew Tate crowd, guffawing too loudly at the jokes about women, not comprehending they were spoken in jest. I noticed many of them had drunk a skinful before and during the show, not least because of the frequency with which they required the rest of the row to stand up to let them out to the toilet. The skinful also showed in other ways, such as their back fat bulging above the waist of their white t-shirts, with their slight beer bellies presenting like the signs of early pregnancy (I can say this as I'm from the demographic whose stomach gives the appearance of carrying twins, Ben and Jerry, thanks to a lifetime of sugar abuse - how I'm not dead is a miracle of modern medicine). I got a bit pissed off with so many of them holding up their cameras to snap pictures during the show. The staff did nothing to stop this, which was irritating.
On the night, Mark did well to hold the Friday night crowd's attention, generating frequent laughs, but he ended oddly, stumbling around for jokes on recent topical subjects. As such, he didn't close strong, so when his support act returned to get the audience to cheer for him, it felt like Mark was being rescued. Not a good way to end the show.
On balance, I would have preferred Kylie.
Ticket Price: 2 Full Price Tickets £37.50 x2£75.00
Per Item Fees £5.10 (Service Charge Full Price Ticket) x2
£1.75 (Facility Charge Full Price Ticket) x2£13.70
On a warm but overcast afternoon, I made my way down to Irvine to see my favourite band perform an acoustic set at the Harbour Arts Centre. There was loads of free parking nearby, and I was one of the first to get in. I chose to sit in the second row (I'm not sure why—shyness, perhaps). The view was still great, as it is an intimate venue with seating on three sides.
Image cribbed from the Freckfest FB page
The support act was Pistol Daisys, performing as a trio with backing tracks enhancing the music. They sounded okay, with good harmonies between the two girls, who both played guitar and took turns on lead vocals. One song was inspired by seeing someone finding pleasure in a public park, while another was about getting dumped by phone while performing at a French music festival.
The first surprise when GUN appeared was that Paul wasn't on drums, instead drafting in a young lad called Rory (spelling?). To make up for that disappointment, though, we also got both Andy and Ruaraidh to complete the five-piece band (the pair were absent on some of the other dates).
With it being a matinee performance, the atmosphere was relaxed. When punters wandered off to the bar or toilets, Dante would poke fun at them. The banter between the two GUN brothers was classic. At one point, they became distracted from their affectionate bickering by the conversation of the other two (about Dante's bass guitar not being as good as Andy's), much to Dante's mock annoyance. Joolz would often ramble on before songs, telling us how lovely they were, much to Dante's exasperation. At another time, I thought we were going to get a JD Vance/ Zelensky situation when Jools insisted that Dante thank the audience for coming. He refused, saying he'd speak to us all individually in private after the show, not from the stage. I loved that they were excited about playing twice on the same day because it meant they got their tea there.
The sound in the Harbour Arts Centre was excellent (except when Dante accidentally turned off his mic and thought it was broken). It was an enjoyable gig. I didn't take too many pictures and only one video, preferring to experience the gig in the moment.
I would happily have done it all again (if I'd had a ticket for the evening show). I didn't wait to speak to the band at the merch stall afterwards (they hadn't appeared yet as I left, and there was quite a crowd); instead, I headed to Vanilla Joes for an ice cream before heading home (two scoops, one of real Italian pistachio and one of white chocolate cookie dough, if you must know). Yummy, but it melted quicker than I could lick. That'll be the jeans going in the wash.
Ticket Price: £27.50 Face value plus £2.75 fees = £30.25 from Gigantic (the barcode wouldn't scan but
Steal Your Fire
Thank you to the gentleman who let me take a picture of the setlist
I can't say I've truly experienced Bonfest because I never made it as far as Kirriemuir, stopping to park at the festival site and not exploring beyond (I've still not seen the Bon Scott statue - another time, perhaps). This was mainly due to timing. I couldn't leave the house before lunch and couldn't check into my hotel room until 3 pm. My incentive to attend, though, was not to see the many AC/DC tribute acts but to catch The Hot Damn! and These Wicked Rivers (Girlschool being an added bonus).
Parking at the event was straightforward. I drove down a massive grass field and was directed to a parking space by an attendant. He then informed me the main site wasn't open until 5 p.m. and that I'd missed the now-closed ticket office in town. I could catch the free happy bus into Kirriemuir if I wanted, but all the pubs would be rammed. I decided to hang around.
Clutching my ticket printout, I wandered down the car park field for a reconnaissance. The campsite tents were on the right, and beyond them, lines of camper vans. On the left stood a large white tent, with food vans, a seating area and a line of toilet cubicles in the gap. The massive arena tent dominated the back.
Main Arena tent and benches
The fencing beside the food vendors was open, so I wandered in, with no security around to stop me. The Hot Damn! were playing their soundcheck in the arena tent so I ordered a bratwurst and sat at a bench to listen (the arena tent was officially closed). As I lifted the sub roll from the card container, the paper napkin it rested upon went flying, such was the strength of the freezing wind blowing through the festival. I was so glad I'd decided to wear extra layers, despite the weather back home not requiring them.
After I finished my food, I explored the rest of the area, peeking into the beer tent, which was still being set up, and then into the merch hall, where drink tokens could be purchased for £5 a pop. I showed the guy behind the counter my ticket printout and was told they weren't ready yet, but to hang around. A second steward then politely told me I needed to leave as I didn't have a wristband. I went to exit the way I came in, only to discover the fence had been put back in place. I was trapped inside, so I had to find yet another security person to let me out. I realise this makes it sound like the organisation was poor, but it wasn't. My innocent exploration highlighted a glitch in their setup. The open fence should have had a security person present to prevent me from wandering in.
Anyway, I waited outside for another ten minutes, had my ticket scanned, and received a wristband and a free merch patch. I bought a programme and messaged an old school pal, whom I knew was also attending the fest, to see if we could meet up.
High Voltage, an AC/DC tribute act, started up in the VIP tent. I hadn't paid for VIP, but I didn't need to, as they were so loud they could be easily heard from the food area. Shortly before 5 p.m., I spotted others heading into the main arena, so I joined them, managing to snag a position at the front on the right. Away from the sun, the place was freezing.
The Hot Damn! were superb, despite how cold it was. The set they played was similar to the one they played supporting These Wicked Rivers, including the Merch Song to the tune of Oh Lord, won't you buy me a Mercedes Benz?I love the energy, attitude and party atmosphere the girls create for their shows. I was surprised by how small the crowd was to start, not realising how many fans were not yet on site.
After this, I finally got to see These Wicked Rivers, having missed them twice: the first time, after they called off for Maid of Stone; and then after my pal took ill before their 10th Birthday Bash. This time, I wasn't disappointed. I knew most of the songs and enjoyed their stage presence and powerful performance. Early on in the set, the singer faceplanted the stage, tripping over a cable. I thought the way he fell was odd, like a felled tree. He had to be helped up by a roadie. Only later, when I spotted him heading for the merch tent, did I realise he had mobility issues.
Having seen the two bands I most wanted to catch, I made my way out of the tent to find my school pal. I messaged him asking for a whereabouts update, and while I waited for his reply, I nipped back to my car for a snack and the opportunity to warm up. Getting his message, we finally met up for the first time in nearly thirty years. After a few failed attempts, his wife managed to capture the moment for posterity.
We missed the start of Girlschool's set as we were still chatting, but what I saw was good. The music felt a bit retro, especially the Motorhead cover, but I enjoyed their set. I was nowhere near the front and got to see just how drunk many of the attendees were, blissfully staggering to and from the tent.
I did my best to enjoy the day's final act, Sin City, but left after about half an hour, saying goodbye to Kev on the way out. Sin City played songs I liked, but it felt a bit too 'pantomime', with 'Bon' in a frightful wig and a plump 'Angus' in a bright red school uniform, replete with devil horn cap.
I drove back to the hotel as dusk fell. Little did I realise how tired I was and how little sleep I would get at the Premier Inn, thanks to the repeated clunking of a busy internal security door. I won't go into too much detail about the post-breakfast spicy diarrhoea episode that nearly derailed my journey home, other than to say it felt like someone was operating a bicycle pump on my intestines, persistent but growing weaker with every subsequent squirt.
The Hot Damn! Setlist (As far as I can remember).
Fizz Buzz Crash Dance Around About Last Night Jukebox on the Radio Live Laugh Love Loud and Clear Merch Song Going Down I Didn't Like You Anyway
These Wicked Rivers Setlist (not sure if I've missed any or the order they were played in)
Force of Nature
Shine On
Evergreen
When the War Is Won
Old Willow Tree
Black Gold
Horse To Water
Don't Pray For Me
Dance Around
I Didn't Like You Anyway
Old Willow Tree
The Riverboat Man
Don't Pray For Me
The view before the show
Someone used a selfie stick to film up close and personal.
These Wicked Rivers
Girlschool
Sin City
Ticket Price: BONFEST 2025 - Saturday Single Ticket (FOR MAIN ARENA AND TOWN HALL) £45.00 GBP Service charge £5.24 GBP Total £50.24 GBP from Universe (a Ticketmaster company)
It has been a glorious sunny day in Glasgow, the warmest of the year so far. My pal and I are heading to a rock gig by a singer I'm not that familiar with. Her records sound great, though. As a vocalist, she has a great set of pipes on her.
As we arrive at Stereo, descending the stone steps and passing the merchandise stall where the staff member checks the tickets and uses a marker to put a cross on the back of one of our hands, I note how grim the venue appears. Dimly lit, the walls have peeling plaster or bare brickwork, and the floor is sticky as hell. Still, this kind of dive is the rockbed of live music. We buy some drinks, then squeak our way to the front.
By the time the support act takes the stage, the term 'crowd' is a misnomer: there are five of us at the front, all old men, with maybe a score more around the room. What local lass Roisin McCarney delivers is not what we are expecting. Dressed in red tartan pantaloons with a black cummerbund, a half-shirt and plastic tie combo that exposes her midriff, and wearing massive golden loop earrings which push through her blonde bangs, this songstress performs high-energy pop music to a backing track, pulling out all her best dance moves as if she's at a sexually charged spin class. Not the rock 'n' roll blues that we are expecting. I wonder if I've stumbled into the wrong hall, arriving at an open audition for 7th Heaven (other strip joints are available). That would explain the sticky floor.
To her credit, though, Roisin delivers an energetic performance, never losing confidence, despite the audience's lack of response. I felt uncomfortable, standing so close to the stage, unsure of where to look, feeling like a dirty old man as she gyrated in front of me. When she followed through on her threat to come down into the audience, I wanted to die of embarrassment. Fortunately, she remained in the middle, so death by shyness didn't occur.
She performed one song without a backing track, which showcased her vocal capabilities and acoustic guitar playing skills. More of that would have been welcome and appropriate.
The only photo that's not a blur during her backing track set
I'd never heard of Sari Schorr prior to the announcement of this gig (she's also playing Maid of Stone later this year). An American singer of rock blues in the style of Janis Joplin, she performs with a trio of talented musicians. Due to the support pole on the left of the stage, the bassist had to perform on the rear tier of the stage beside the drummer, leaving Sari and her guitarist at the front.
The longer the show went on, the more I tired of listening. Sari has a tremendous vocal range and a pleasant demeanour, but I grew to dislike the way she favoured hitting the notes rather than singing the lyrics, a style perhaps adopted over the years on the road. In a larger venue, this would have been less noticeable; however, up close, it sounded lazy. The drums were also too loud, imbalancing the performance.
Towards the end, having played lots of new, unreleased material, Sari gave us choices over what we'd like to hear next, under the pretext that they were short of time due to the curfew. That struck me as unprofessional. Granted, they sometimes ended up playing both choices, but come on, you time your show to include all your memorable material. You don't stiff the audience by cutting out the good stuff in favour of new songs.
My disappointment was compounded when I filmed the final song, only to accidentally stop recording halfway while trying to zoom in on the guitarist during his solo. Even the camera thought I should give up on this show.
There is no setlist available because even the database website I use didn't register this date of the tour. It's somewhat disheartening that the most memorable aspect of the gig was the support act, but for all the wrong reasons.
It's good to support live music and music venues (even if they don't always wash their floor). Not every show can be a winner, though.
