King Tut's Summer Nights Presents Anchor Lane + Forgetting The Future + Human Renegade, Saturday 30th August, 2025

Anchor Lane celebrated their tenth anniversary with a Scottish weekender this month. I was supposed to attend the one in Glasgow at King Tut's, but I was too ill to go (a horrendous cold). By all accounts, it was a brilliant gig.

Next time...
 

Ticket Price: 2 x £15.00 plus £3.00 booking fee = £33.00 via TicketWeb.

 

2:22 A Ghost Story. King's Theatre, Glasgow. Matinee Wednesday 27th August, 2025

A quick review because they don't want spoilers ('they' being the producers, not the subject of the spookiness).

My thoughts: This is a play that is successful enough to be remounted regularly with brand-new casts, often featuring a famous person to attract the audience. This time, that position falls to celebrity couple, Stacey Dooley and Kevin Clifton. Not known for their acting skills, this would suggest the play is cast-proof. So, did I enjoy it?

A little. 

The stalls were packed out, more than I expected for a matinee. I must confess my senses were somewhat dulled during the first half by a full lunch and the heat in the theatre. Because of this, I barely reacted to the jump scares, some of which I didn't experience firsthand, but via the audience's reaction. These scares consisted mainly of loud screams and blackouts, accompanied by the fluorescent red tube lights that framed the stage. The scares in Ghost Stories were way better crafted than this.  

I didn't warm to the performances, especially the part played by Kevin. Sure, he got to show off a few dance moves, which may or may not have been in the script, but there was an artificiality to the performances that flattened the drama.   

The script effectively built and defined the character relationships, while also exploring topics such as gentrification, beliefs and class. The set of a half-renovated living room looked suitably shabby and creepy. The lighting was used effectively.  

The ending, which I won't spoil, wasn't a surprise as I'd already figured it out. I won't be rushing back to see the play again, unless there is a killer cast (I don't mean actual murderers, although that would give it an edge).  

Ticket Price: Stalls Row M - 2 x £35 plus £3.95 Booking Fee  = £73.95 (Summer Saver Promotion Price)

AC/DC "PWR UP" Tour, Murrayfield Stadium, Edinburgh. Thursday 21st August

 

This story starts when the tickets went on sale. I was 25448th in the queue.  

No big deal. The capacity at Murrayfield is 67,144, so I'll definitely get a ticket. Except, I want a Front Standing ticket. My experience at Bruce Springsteen in the Rear Standing section was not good. I also log onto Viagogo, curious to see what they have and how much they cost. I pop a Front Standing in my basket, with an asking price of £373, and let the ten-minute counter run down.  I'm still nowhere near the front of the TM queue, but decide I'm not prepared to pay that much for AC/DC. I do this six times, each time the value of the Viagogo ticket drops until it reaches £273. An hour later, I get into TM, but they have no Front Standing tickets left, so I buy the Viagogo ticket, pay my money and wait to see if it comes. I've read nightmare articles where the artists cancelled the resales, scammers sell the same ticket multiple times, or the seller fails to transfer the ticket. I know Viagogo will refund my money if it goes wrong, but that would mean I miss out on seeing AC/DC, probably given their age, for the last time.

For months, I fret, worrying whether it will arrive. Viagogo says the ticket may not be released until the day of the concert. I tell people only that I 'might' be going to the concert. The stress does my head in. So much for retirement being stress-free. 

Finally, five days before the gig, I get an email saying the ticket is available. Fantastic, except Ticketmaster keeps telling me something has gone wrong. We've been in Edinburgh, it's late, so I pray it's just a problem with their website. 

The next morning, I successfully transfer the ticket via the app. I'm going to AC/DC! Whoop!  

On the day of the gig, my brother-in-law, who is working at the gig in hospitality, informs me that my planned parking location has been coned off. My mate who lives on that street confirms the street is already at capacity. My stress levels rise. I'm taking my pal, Des. We'd agreed to leave Paisley at 2.30 pm (for a 5 pm doors open). Is that going to be too late to find a space nearby?

Everything goes smoothly. I find a place to park at Saughton Grove, less than fifteen minutes' walk to the venue. Panic over. Now I can relax.  

Des heads into town (he's got a seated ticket); I join the Front Standing queue. It's been set up using barriers to make us snake up and down until we reach security. The space is so vast, some punters are using the corners like F1 drivers to overtake. Nine people who started behind me end up in front. I try not to let it get to me. It's early. The doors haven't even officially opened, and we're moving. There are not that many people in front anyway. 

At security, the queue is broken into six lines. These lines move at different paces, depending on whether someone has a bag or is carrying something they shouldn't, so I make back the distance I lost. Then we walk to the turnstiles and wait to enter. I join an unusually short queue with only one person in front of me. Of course, there's a problem. This young lad has taken a screenshot of his live barcode, so it gets declined. Instead of taking him aside, though, G4S make us all wait while a supervisor is summoned. I start to feel claustrophobic, stuck inside the narrow turnstile block. We're prevented from exiting our queue by the security behind us, so we have to wait. Eventually, the supervisor arrives, finds out what the idiot did and gets him to log into his account to access a fresh code. Only his phone signal is poor, so it takes a while. 

We then head into the stadium and onto the pitch. The crowd at the barrier is already one or two people deep, so I can't decide where to stand. Not in front of the runway. If I stand there, I can't see the stage. I made that mistake at Pink. I move around the corner, a distance from the barrier. What if tall people arrive and block my view? I panic and head down to the side, level with the end of the walkway. 

Why is there always a giant at the barrier?

There is a mix of nationalities around me, particularly German and French. The two Germans reveal they paid €3000 for a five-night stay at the Edinburgh Motel One after buying their concert tickets, not realising how expensive Edinburgh accommodation is during the Festival. I quickly become surrounded as the space fills up. I haven't had anything to eat or drink, and it doesn't look like I am going to be able to without losing my spot. 

(I promise I'll discuss the actual gig eventually).

The Pretty Reckless take the stage at 6.45 pm and play a standard set. Taylor Momsen has a 'heroin-chic' look about her, super skinny, dressed in her sheer nightie dress, clodhooper boots boosting her already tall frame by a few more inches. Her voice is powerful when she wants it to be, at other times, almost whispering the moody vocals. I rarely see the guitarist as he is mostly on the other side of the stage. I realise that this is a problem: I no longer have an overall view of the stage, exacerbated by the tall people around me. I persevere. I can't see where else to go. I give up on any chance of filming any songs and accept I may only be able to snap a few, limited-view photos.

The audience reaction around me seems muted. Many of them seem unfamiliar with The Pretty Reckless. They're there only for AC/DC. As a result, my enjoyment is diminished. Less Pretty Reckless and more Pretty Average. 

Setlist

Death by Rock and Roll
Since You're Gone
Follow Me Down
Only Love Can Save Me Now
Witches Burn (With "Broomsticks" outro)
Make Me Wanna Die
Going to Hell
Heaven Knows
Take Me Down

Yes, that is an ear on the right.

Ear it is again

By the time AC/DC are due on the stage, the area is crammed, made all the worse by punters sitting down, leaving the impression there is still space, which draws in more people. Latecomers suddenly appear wanting to join their friends on the barrier, but there is no room. This causes friction and verbal argy-bargy. The new arrivals relent and leave, but not until after expressing how disgusted they feel at receiving such abuse. I'm disgusted by their attitude. Most of us have been here for over three hours. How dare they waltz in and expect us to move!

It gets worse when AC/DC starts. A number of yobs rush forward through the crowd, pushing their way to get to the front. Security spots this and, to their credit, acts. Two men are bodily lifted and surfed over the barrier. Unfortunately, the majority get to stay. They gloat at their victory, warning those around them with glee that they are about to form a moshpit. Which they do. Nothing is more distracting than having to be wary of a surge in your direction. You can't pay attention to the music or what's happening on the stage. 

I shouldn't have gone so far forward. Not only are there the problems I've discussed, I can't take in the screens on either side of the stage, even in my peripheral vision. During the show introduction, when the car is racing towards Edinburgh, I can only see the central image. I have to keep turning my head, missing the action on the other screen. It's too late to find somewhere else to stand. 

Another consequence of the moshpit is that people are trying to avoid it, packing closer to the barrier in an uneven fashion. This distorts the natural order, bringing more tall people into my line of sight, interrupting my view. 

Then, there's the phone nonsense. Whenever any band member approaches, well, Angus or Brian (the others don't move about), everyone raises their phone in a Pavlovian response to capture it. I want to do it too, but resist. The guy behind me keeps knocking my head with his arm as he holds aloft his camera, arms fully stretched upwards for the best view. 

German Folk Dancing.

The band play okay, but notably Angus fluffs the riff for Thunderstruck, losing his place, knocking the rhythm. Brian's voice isn't great either, swapping enthusiasm for ability. He's got a horrendous cough, but is giving it his all. Whenever he punches the air, it looks like he's celebrating that he managed to sing the words. When Angus lifts his hand to his ear, it doesn't feel like a signal for us to cheer, more like a suggestion that the old man can't hear us.

All this sounds like I didn't enjoy the show. I did, but only after I let go of my preconceptions and complaints and got on with it, being in the moment. By the time they played Let There Be Rock, I was truly in my element, rocking along, shaking my head (very much not in disapproval), lost to the music. This was proper AC/DC, not the guff pretending to be them at Bonfest. Okay, they might not be in their prime any more, not at their best, but it's still the best music in the world. You can't beat a proper bit of AC/DC. 

I'll not get to see them again, and if they do return to these shores, I probably won't go. As a send-off, though, it was a great way to go. 

Setlist

If You Want Blood (You've Got It)
Back in Black
Demon Fire
Shot Down in Flames
Thunderstruck
Have a Drink on Me
Hells Bells
Shot in the Dark
Stiff Upper Lip
Highway to Hell
Shoot to Thrill
Sin City
Hell Ain't a Bad Place to Be
Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap
High Voltage
Riff Raff
You Shook Me All Night Long
Whole Lotta Rosie
Let There Be Rock

Encore:
Fling Thing (First Time Since 1980) (Besides Angus With Bonny Solo)
T.N.T.
For Those About to Rock (We Salute You)

     

Edinburgh T-shirt front

Edinburgh T-shirt back

Where should I go?

It should have been there!

Too late to change my mind now.

 

And there goes my view.

   

Excerpt of Angus's solo from Let There Be Rock 

Short excerpt of Fling Thing

Cannon fire.

Brian's voice is gubbed by now

Fireworks from the canopy to finish 

Ticket Price: Front Standing £181.10 Plus Fees £77.23 Tax £15.45 =  £273.78 from Viagogo

Edinburgh Fringe, Sunday 17th August 2025: Julia Masli, Cat Cohen, Dan Rath, Michelle Wolf, Simon Evans, Brooke Being Brooke.

An extra journey to the Fringe, on my own, in order to catch the shows I couldn't fit in on the other two visits. Six shows in one day: how was I going to cope?

I messed up one aspect of my planning. I thought free parking applied everywhere in Edinburgh on a Sunday, but this was not the case. The Central Zones had parking restrictions between 12.30 pm and 6.30 pm. My final show was due to finish after the last bus and tram had departed, so using the Park and Ride was not an option. Using a public car park was going to work out too expensive, and the nearby, cheaper Parkopedia sites were all sold out. Solution: Park outside the Central Zones and walk in.

I departed around 9 am, avoiding the Paisley 10k routes, and made it to Edinburgh by 10:20 am, finding the last space to park on a side street in a residential area off .     

The Brilliance of Broken Glass: Button (£13) 11:35 at Bunker Three at Pleasance Courtyard

My original choice for this timeslot, Ian Smith, sold out while I was thinking about it, so this was a punt. It ticked the box of being by an overseas performer, so I was unlikely to catch her locally. It fell under the Theatre listing, so I lowered my laugh expectations. Would I regret choosing this over my third choice, Stuart Goldsmith's WIP?

This is a show about Brooke's horrific ordeals, involving an amputation (unspecified), organ failure resulting in numerous operations and losing her identity. But Brooke, being Brooke, it's all told with perfect teeth, a broad smile and a show-must-go-on mentality. Her confidence is supreme, despite the room being less than half full. The only time she takes a breather from her tight script is for brief video montages from her childhood. 

Her excessive upbeatness grates against my cynical Scottish sensibilities. I say wallow in your misery. To be fair to her, she's had it hard. I'm happy that she's happy. She's living her dream, even when her life has been a nightmare. I just don't need a repeat performance.  

Simon Evans "Have We Met?" (£16) 14:10 at Just The Fancy Room at Just The Tonic at the Caves

This show didn't tick the overseas box. It was an old show from 2023 that Simon was giving another airing after a tour upgrade. It piqued my interest as I thought it was about Simon's personal descent into early-stage dementia. It wasn't. The closest that got was the standard 'old man walks into a room and forgets why' routine. 

Instead, the show dealt more with mortality. The number of comedy greats who died before they reached sixty, which Simon has now surpassed, troubles him. 'Sniper Alley', he calls it, the best being picked off before their time. He pays tribute to many of them, Benny Hill, Frankie Howerd, Tommy Cooper and Sean Lock, for whom he used to write. The latter, I felt, was a valid mention, but perhaps included more to paint Simon in a better light, given his right-wing views, aired semi-regularly on GB News, had resulted in his work being reappraised and called out for punching down rather than being ironic. Not quite cancelled, because he doesn't have a big enough career to take it away. He bemoans how Jimmy Carr and Ricky Gervais can convert their cancellations into viewing figures, ticket sales and, ultimately, cash.     

It is telling that the first big laugh in the room came after he declared, almost in passing, how much he doesn't like minorities. This audience was primarily older and English, bar the 21-year-old in the front row, who hadn't heard of any of the comedy greats, not even Little Britain. 

The hour suffered rather than benefited from being a recut of his tour show. Themes felt contracted rather than developed. The ending was poor, reciting from memory a section of the poem Ulysses, linking it to a previous Scissors bit. Good for you, mate!  

Michelle Wolf (£20) 16:00 at Pleasance One, Pleasance Courtyard 

One of the reasons I headed to Edinburgh today was to see Michelle Wolf. I expected an hour of biting satire, laying into both sides of American politics (but mainly Trump). While Trump did receive some bashing in the first five minutes, the rest of the hour delved more into man-bashing and babies, not surprising given she is eight months pregnant. Her jokes are good, but don't land well with a male demographic. The women in the audience were howling with laughter, but it's not as funny when you are the butt of the joke, no matter how true it is. 

Hopefully, after she pops out this new one, she'll get back to writing satire (by that, I mean a Netflix special - what did you think I meant?)

Dan Rath: "Tropical Depression" (£13) 18:40 Cab Vol 1 at Monkey Barrel Comedy

A five-star review from Chortle for his show at the Melbourne Comedy Festival spurred me to book a ticket for this one over other choices. I wasn't disappointed. 

Dan has an oblique, peculiar view of life, skewed through mental health issues. The material gets dark quickly, but clever at the same time. He sounds like an Antipodean Steven Wright, rolling out one-liners and short jokes, rarely making eye contact with the audience as he runs his fingers through his hair, rubbing his head as if to squeeze out another tortured funny.

It's laugh after laugh, with only an occasional dud, which he remarks about, making it funny, as if deliberate. Maybe it was. It was time well spent.

After this show, I moved the car to outside the Pleasance, then went to get some dinner, buying a banoffee crepe which I managed to spill down my t-shirt. Just as well my wife wasn't with me to roll her eyes and complain about not being able to take me anywhere. Fortunately, there wasn't much of a mark after I wiped it off.

 Cat Cohen: "Broad Strokes" (£20)  21:00 Pleasance One Pleasance Courtyard

I saw some of Cat Cohen's Netflix special and thought it was excruciating and unwatchable. Her over-the-top onstage Millennial personality was unfunny. However, this wasn't a live experience, so perhaps I should see for myself what she's like in person. She did win the Edinburgh Newcomer Award in 2019, after all. This show was about her stroke, so it might have some comedy depth to it.

Whoops. 

While a large section of the audience found her hilarious, with so much loud adulation over the most minor things - a flick of her hair or a pout - she left me cold.  Maybe my seating position affected the sound quality, but I occasionally struggled to make out what she was saying, and I couldn't follow some of the song lyrics. It could have been her accent, the pitch of the song or just my hearing. I don't think she deserved the huge guffaws and finger whistles in appreciation of her work. 

The story itself and its telling were funny, just not as amusing as some of the audience thought it was. Maybe I'm just the wrong age and demographic to understand the funny.    

Show description update

Julia Masli: ha ha ha ha ha ha ha (£20) was 23:15, now 23.30 at Queen Dome, Pleasance Dome

An award-winning, five-star show, originally from 2023, with audience participation. That was all I knew about it. I had to see it for myself.  

Boy, was this GREAT! 

(THIS REVIEW CONTAINS SPOILERS!)

We pack the room. I choose to sit in the second row, then realise it's on the same flat level as the front row, and I can't see past the big unit in front of me. I skip back a row, taking the aisle seat. I witness others doing the same, a party of Americans joining me, others switching to the seating across the aisle. I then remember the audience participation bit. I'm on an aisle. Oh dear!

The lights go out. We're in almost total darkness. I detect light out of the corner of my eye coming from the top of the stairs behind me. Others turn around to see what's going on. Julia is at the top of the stairs, a torch on her wrist illuminating her face. "Ha", she barely whispers, repeating the word each time she takes another step down to the stage area, which is set up with a desk and curtains, and items hanging from the ceiling. One of her arms is a plastic mannequin leg, and she has unusual electronic headwear meshed into her costume. 

She approaches an audience member in the front row and says, "Ha". They are expected to repeat the word back in the same pitch and tone. When someone gets it wrong, she shouts, 'NO!!!!' in their face and floats away again to find someone new. When someone gets it wrong twice, they are removed from their seat, which she then smashes into pieces at the back of the stage, leaving them to crouch in place. And so it goes on...

When she moves onto the next phase of the show, it gets wild. With a microphone now taped to her plastic leg-arm, she approaches someone in the audience and says, "Praaaaaaw-blem?" They then have to tell her a problem they are experiencing. One person says they are tired. She takes them from their seat and leads them onto the stage, then pulls out a single bed for them to sleep upon, giving them a blindfold and a pair of headphones, over which she hears Julia's meditative chant of "We're all going to die". Another needs to pee, so he's sent away with a specimen bottle to fill and bring back. One cleverclogs declares he has no problems (which I was going to use if picked). She kicks him out. "This show is for people with problems. You have no problems. You must go," the words spoken softly with a faint Eastern European accent. He returns but is kicked out again. She only lets him stay a third time when he insists he paid to see the show. 

One woman has responded that her problem is her ability to move on from a recent breakup. She's commanded to let it go. Julia moves across to me. Her eyes are mesmerising as she comes closer, pointing the microphone close to my mouth. 

"You."

 I qualify what she wants me to tell her. "Do you mean what do I want to let go?"

"Yes".

I mutter quietly, "My breath?"

"Why do you say your breath?" she insists.

"Because I'm holding it. I'm nervous." A titter of recognition ripples around the room.

"Breeeaaath," she commands me, before moving on. As she does, she glances back at me with a slight smirk. "I have not heard that one before." 

I get off easy. One poor guy agrees to be washed clean of the world's evil, ending up naked in an actual shower, his dignity protected by frosted glass. It is then that I realise that some of the audience are probably stooges. But not every one. I know I'm not. 

The effect of the show is exhilarating. Julia has a powerful presence, intimidating yet playful. I would return to see this show again in a heartbeat, despite it finishing later than billed at 12:50 a.m. (from an 11:30 start). I want to know how much is staged.  

I get home at 2:20 am with no road issues on the way back. 

At 6 am, I hear Poppy moaning in distress. She needs an urgent poo. I let her out, well aware I need more sleep. An hour later, the alarm goes off. 

Monday is going to be a fun day.

Booking fee total £7.50 (two transactions)

Robin McAuley UK Tour 2025, Classic Grand, Glasgow. Saturday 16th August, 2025

A last-minute offer of a free ticket brought me out to this gig at the Classic Grand. As such, I was a wee bit underprepared, having only listened to a few tracks from his most recent album.

Support act, Lyin Rampant, have been around for years. Not that I've ever seen them, to my recollection. At the start of their set, the sound was awful, as if I was listening to them through a wall, with only the bass registering. It got slightly better later, but by that time, I'd already tuned out. The lead singer looked as if his mop of a perm was too heavy for his neck, singing most of the songs into the floor. I've seen a few older rock singers do this, but it's usually so they can read their lyrics from a monitor. I don't think that applied tonight.

Robin McAuley is not a name that troubled me in the past. He sang with Grand Prix and Michael Schenker, and had his own solo career, but I couldn't name a single song he sang. That didn't help tonight. The sound was much improved for his set, but still, it's difficult to sing along if you don't know the words. His music is very much generic 80s melodic rock. If this had been a festival show, I'd have wandered off to find a seat. 

On the quieter numbers, the club music blasting out in a room on a lower floor muddied the sound. I really don't like the Classic Grand as a music venue.   

Still, it was free, it finished just after 9.30, and it reminded me that not every gig can be a winner. Well worth the money I paid, if not the time.

Setlist (assuming it didn't change from the first date of the tour)

Save Yourself (McAuley–Schenker Group song)
Standing on the Edge
This Is My Heart (McAuley–Schenker Group song)
Shout (Grand Prix cover)
Keep on Believing (Grand Prix cover)
Take Me Back (McAuley–Schenker Group song)
The Best of Me
Alive
Bad Boys (McAuley–Schenker Group song)
Gimme Your Love (McAuley–Schenker Group song)
Anytime (McAuley–Schenker Group song)
Samurai (Grand Prix cover)
Love Is Not a Game (McAuley–Schenker Group song)

Ticket Price: Free (comp courtesy of Trev from Shock City Productions

Lyin Rampant

Robin McAuley

Both bands on stage for the final song