Gut Reactions (post-gig memories and other trips): Tyketto "Closer to the Sun" UK Tour, The Garage, Glasgow. Tuesday 21st April, 2026.

A Tuesday night gig at The Garage: the queue is down as far as the Gentings Casino by the time we arrive. The doors are due to open at 7 pm, with Collateral on stage at 7.15. The entry process is smooth, and, bypassing the merch room, we make our way to the main hall, where we end up five-deep at the front.

A couple are on my left, the woman as short as the man is tall. Her view of the stage is good until a white-haired pensioner with hearing aids, thick-rimmed specs on a cord, and a walking stick shuffles through the crowd and stops right in front of her. The husband is irate, demanding that the man move, which he doesn't. There's no room. The pensioner brasses it out and stays where he is, forcing the unhappy pair to slide over.

Collateral both look and sound great once my ears adjust to the room. Frontman Angelo Tristan packs charisma with a fine voice. He brings the energy, demanding we raise our game so they can fulfil their role in warming us up. He succeeds. A great start.

However, my photos are shite.

Collateral

It doesn't take long for Warrior Soul to sap that energy. Their intro takes forever before the lead singer joins them on stage. I wished he hadn't. If you're going to copy the look of David Coverdale and the dance moves of David Lee Roth, you shouldn't do it as they are now - vocally strained and arthritic. Any singing voice this man had is long gone. He still bears the demeanour of a rock god, but I quickly grow tired of his shouting into the mic. I don't mean in a death metal way. This is not death metal. If anything, this is the death of metal. The solos the guitarist shreds sound more like instrument abuse than music. If I'd had a magic amp, I'd have rubbed it and wished them to stop. Forever. As I haven't, I close my eyes and wait for it to be over. Interminable!

Warrior Soul - look at us, we used to be middlingly famous

This rather dampens my feelings towards Tyketto. As does the clean-shaven Hagrid in a leather jacket, who uses his heft to push forward to stand in front of the girl beside me. She taps him on the shoulder. He pretends not to notice. She taps more insistently. He turns and fake apologises, edging over slightly. She still can't see. She tells him to do one. He relents and eventually slides sideways to be a pain in front of someone else. (He returned during the set, standing in front of the couple on my other side, but the husband, who was as tall as him, 'encouraged' him to keep going. I didn't see where Hagrid went after this - hopefully home.)

Tyketto frontman Danny Vaughn is a humble soul. He appreciates how the fans have stuck with them for their thirty-five years. He's retained a powerful voice and his sense of humour, and is an easy presence to like. I'm not overly familiar with their music, though I did give the new album a couple of listens (it's a grower). The hardcore fans sing along, while I try to work out what the words are. The talented guitarist keeps playing at the side of the stage, out of the spotlight, which is a bit frustrating. I don't think he realises he's in shadow.

I don't attempt to shoot any video footage. Too many heads at the same level as mine. Besides, the tall bloke to my right seems to have his phone permanently on record, with an unobstructed view of the stage, so his footage will be superior to mine. Let's hope he shares it on YouTube.

Mr Video

I never managed to snag a photo of the setlist, but noticed a poster of the stage times behind the bar. The barmaid saw me taking the picture, asked if I wanted it, and handed it over. Tyketto never stuck to the 'strict curfew', finishing at 10.45 pm.