Foo Fifers (with the Red Hot Chilipinos), The Bungalow, Paisley. Saturday 18th May, 2024

As a prelude to seeing Foo Fighters next month, I took up an offer to see these tribute bands playing locally. To my surprise, my wife wanted to come along too. I am not much of a fan of the Red Hot Chili Peppers, but I figured I would suffer them as I would any support act, always prepared to be surprised. 

The venue was far from sold out, with maybe sixty or seventy people present. A work colleague and her friend had kept us seats so at least the night would be comfortable. My back was still fragile and prone to spasm if I wasn't careful. Put it this way, I wasn't going to be jumping about.

My first impression of the Red Hot Chilipinos was that they'd eaten the Peppers. Not in the sense that what they produced was fiery poo. It was just that RHCP are lean and muscular, whereas these English lads are not. The band did a great job of sounding like the Peppers, though the singer lacked Anthony Keidis's tone and range. Partway into their set, I checked my phone and was surprised it had only been twenty minutes. The longer they played, the more I wished my earplugs were noise-cancelling. They finished strong, but I can't say I enjoyed their hour-and-a-quarter-long set. It didn't matter, though, as I wasn't here for them.

Initially, I was disappointed by Foo Fifers. My wife said afterwards my expectations were too high. The singer was no Dave Grohl. He sang the words but lacked the Grohl growl, his impression more of a rasp. But then, there's a reason Dave Grohl is a rock icon. His talents lie way beyond his songwriting ability. This guy obviously loves the Foos but couldn't go far enough to capture his spirit and charisma.

The night wasn't a total bust, though. The more songs they played, the better they became. By the end, everyone, including myself, was standing, rocking along. The band was good. The less I compared them to the real Foo Fighters, the more I appreciated them. It was a shame they only got to play for an hour and a quarter, too, the gig finishing at 11 p.m.

Would I go back to see them? No. 

Was it a waste of money? No. 

I had a good time, but these tributes only left me craving to be in the presence of the real thing. (Rock'n) Roll on June.  

Ticket Price: £10 (plus BF 1.55).

Fred Macaulay and Bruce Morton Comedy Night, The Bungalow, Paisley. Sunday 20th November, 2022

I had tickets to see this pair at The Bungalow in 2020, a gig that got postponed because of the first lockdown. I took a refund then and didn't even realise that gig had been rescheduled to last year. So, it was a pleasant surprise to see on Friday a Facebook ad promoting the pair at the Bungalow tonight and for there still to be tickets available (at the bargain price of £12 no less, plus fees of £1.52).

Another surprise was to see Parrot, a comedian from Greenock I first saw back in the nineties, jump on stage to introduce them. I think it was a surprise to him too because he'd only made the journey along the M8 to see his old pals perform, not expecting to compere the evening. It showed too. He was not so much a warm-up man as a let's kill this gig stone dead man. I think Monty Python might have been inspired by his performance. To be fair though, he hadn't been on a stage in nine years and was as rusty as an iron nail left exposed to the elements for that length of time. 

The same could be said of the first act, Bruce Morton. He admitted he also hadn't been on stage since last year's Bungalow gig. His material came across like a work-in-progress, especially as he kept referring to his two pages of scribbled notes.  Some jokes landed, others died. He salvaged the set by throwing in some old material I recognised from the nineties. Given the circumstances, I'll forgive him for the unevenness of his performance.  

Fred has been touring so his material flowed well, although, given he opened with his COP 26 material, he might have been using it for a while now. His set was good, despite the interruptions of Helena, a forty-year-old woman from Falkirk, who'd come through with her family and friends to see him, even offering to drive him home if he performed for longer (there's a joke in there somewhere but, as a male of a certain age, I'd never be able to find it).  

This was my first time in The Bungalow since it has been refurbished and I liked it. The raised stage provided good visibility and the sound was good, despite Parrot suggesting the 'music' microphone turned down the funny. My only complaint was that the LED spotlights pointing at the audience were kept on during the show causing me eye strain. Comedy gigs work better when the audience isn't illuminated. Just saying.

The offending spotlight

   

Restless Natives (Big Country Tribute), RocknRollas, Paisley. Friday 8th April, 2022

I'd purchased tickets for Big Country, playing at this venue later in the year, and received these tickets for free. I wasn't bothered about going but a pal was home from down south and it seemed apt to have a catch-up at the gig. It was free after all, even if the lager prices were extortionate. 

We arrived early and were warmly greeted by the legendary Jackie Mills in reception, flattering me by saying even if I hadn't tickets she'd have added me to her guest list. She's an icon of the local music scene.  

Inside, Kenny bought the drinks and we grabbed two comfortable seats at the side with a clear view of the stage. The band came on at around 8.30 pm and played until 10.50 pm. As you can imagine, that is a lot of Big Country songs and I'm more of a greatest hits fan, not so much a diehard, so a lot of the material was obscure to me. When the lead singer said they'd promised to play The Crossing in full, I didn't know if that referred to the song or an album but realised pretty quickly it was the latter.

I was a little disappointed by the sound. Big Country have a distinctive guitar sound and tonight the band seemed more bass and drum-heavy with the vocals swamping the guitars at times. When the guitars were clear they sounded great and the singer both looked and sounded like Stuart Adamson, probably more so than the current lineup of Big Country. Occasionally, when I didn't recognise the song, my mind drifted onto other artists I'd like to see play here, like Iron Maiden or the Sisters of Mercy, tribute acts obviously, such was the effect of the bass and drum heaviness. 

The venue itself is fabtastic (that's a typo but I'm keeping it), an old church that was converted into a retail unit then converted again into a bar and performance space. With only about fifty people in attendance, it was difficult to judge the atmosphere properly but I reckon I'll be returning and not just for Big Country.

Of course, any gig, even one with such a low attendance will still have idiots. This was during the gig. He returned twice, moving on quickly each time, fortunately. 

Come on, man - I may be a wallflower but I'm not invisible - have some respect.

Ticket Price: Free with purchase of tickets for Big Country. 

No setlist so here are some pictures instead:

  

Martin Metcalfe & The Fornicators @ The Bungalow, Paisley. Fri 20th July 2018

I loved Goodbye Mr. Mackenzie when I was a youth, travelling across Scotland to go to their gigs. I was at Tower Records in Argyll Street when they launched 'Hammer and Tongs' getting my cassette tape insert signed by all the band. I even attended their last ever gig at the Garage in Glasgow, hoping Shirley might return but she didn't.

I didn't know their main man, Martin Metcalfe, was still gigging until I saw the advert for tonight's gig on FB. Snapping up two tickets for what turned out to be a less than sold out performance (with a bit of confusion in advance over whether a Paypal receipt counted as a ticket - I didn't know the Bungalow didn't send out confirmations), I went along to my first ever gig at this particular venue.

It is small. Intimate might be a nicer description. From the back of the room to the stage is maybe ten feet (and still some plonkers stood right in front of us - serves me right for wanting something to lean on).

The support act, 'In the Plughole', came on at 8.30pm and played some neat punk tunes for about 45mins. The big bloke singing had a great earthy voice and sweated like a fountain. His obesity had me worried he might suffer a coronary. Enjoyable though - the tunes, not the fear of a heart attack.

When I saw Martin walking about near the merch table, I didn't recognise him with his long beard, bald head and sunglasses. Dressed all in black, he could have just been some tall, trendy punter. Then I heard him speak, his East coast brogue still strong, and it clicked who he was.

Playing a semi-acoustic set, Martin and his three Fornicators began at the beginning with the first Mackenzie album. Hearing him sing sent me back in time. My body remained planted in the present, jiggling and singing along, but my mind went back to 1989, listening to those tapes and later CDs, the lyrics coming back like it was yesterday.

They played lots from the first two albums plus an Angelfish track, the title song from the "New Town Killers" soundtrack, which Martin co-write with director and Skids lead singer Richard Jobson, and a cover of Walk on the Wildside, finishing on a rousing 'Amsterdam', all in giving us almost ninety minutes of fresh memories.

The crowd, no more than two-score-and-ten in number and probably mostly around that in age, were suitably appreciative, with only a little jeering over Martin's frequent mentioning of Glasgow instead of Paisley.

A good night.

The one thing I didn't understand was why the venue didn't turn off the flat screen tv that was beside the stage. My eyes were often drawn to the BBC News channel with its live subtitles distracting me from the performance. I didn't need to see the latest Trump fiasco, the Novachok victim tributes or the Open highlights. It was a gig. Give some respect to the band. Seeing the clock was handy though.

(photos not great as I had to zoom between the four heads in front).