Ray Bradshaw "CODA", SEC Armadillo, Glasgow. Saturday 11th April, 2026

 

I saw a £15 ticket offer for this gig earlier in the week. Of course, being Ticketmaster, £15 tickets actually ended up costing £20.80. It was still worth it, though. This was Ray's biggest-ever solo show, and it felt good to support him. I've always found him a disarmingly funny comic with an easy, conversational style that packs a killer punchline. 

He's never nervous on stage because, with two deaf parents, he's always had to be confident from a young age to help them navigate the world of sound. He gets a lot of mileage from his deaf parents. Despite hearing some of the stories before, I couldn't help but laugh at them again, because 1) his delivery is so smooth, 2) everyone is laughing, and 3) the stories are very funny. For example, Ray hears someone using a chainsaw outside his house early one morning. He looks out his window and sees his deaf dad cutting the hedge. He also sees all the neighbours watching from their windows, annoyed at being disturbed so early. Ray makes gestures to try to catch his dad's attention (no point in shouting), and eventually catches his dad's eye. Ray signs to him that he is disturbing the neighbours. His dad looks about, shrugs and then signs back, "That's your problem," and carries on.

Ray performed both halves of the show with his sign language interpreter. She also provided a few laughs, like when she showed him the middle finger (not up the bum - injoke*) after he made a joke about her.

Before the show, Ray watched the audience on the screens backstage. With many deaf people in the audience, he was able to eavesdrop on their signed conversations, the best one being one chap who asked his wife if she thought he had time to go for a shite. 

It would have been brilliant if he could have sold out the venue, but even with the last-minute £15 tickets on sale, the Front Circle was less than half full, with no one in the rear seating or top floor. This was a shame. It was a good night.

Afterwards, on the way back to the car, I persuaded my wife that we should stop at McDonald's. I wanted a Creme Egg McFlurry, and she decided she'd like the same, but the mini version. At the order screen, I raced through the transaction, but the machine had no receipt roll. As I took out my phone to photograph the order number, the screen returned to the start. My wife berated me for hitting the wrong button. She said I had cancelled the order. So I repeated the process, and again it leapt back to the order screen, though this time I briefly noticed the number 97 flash before it disappeared. She was angry now. Why did I cancel it again? She now wanted to leave, but I was determined to order my ice cream. For a third time, I went through the process, taking each step slowly. At the end, I paused to read the instruction she claimed I had got wrong. 'Yes' meant retry. Nothing happened. It couldn't. There was no receipt roll. 'No' meant continue without a receipt. Then we heard 97 being called, just after 95. Two sets of our order were on the counter, with a third on the way. My wife couldn't stop laughing. In the end, they refunded the other two orders. The assistant asked if I wanted a receipt. I said no. I got one anyway.

Ticket Price:
Venue £15 Ticket offer: £15.00 x 2 = £30.00
Service Fee: £2.05 x 2 = £4.10
Venue Facility Fee: £2.50 x 2 = £5.00
Handling Fee £2.50
Total £41.60 via Ticketmaster

* At a wedding, Ray persuaded an American guest to order a 'Finger Up The Bum' at the free bar. Ray credits the barman with the greatest of replies. "Is that a single or a double?"  

Selected Preshow music: 

Pretty Glasgow Sky by Elgin Drive

Midnight by The Lucky Angels

The Sweetness of Doing Nothing by Heavy Weather

College Days by Careo

Revolution by The High Flats

I've never heard of any of them either.

An Evening With David Byrne - Who is the Sky Tour, SEC Armadillo, Glasgow. Friday 6th March, 2026.

And so begins my second night of being entertained by a grey-haired Scottish pensioner, albeit one with a more prolific musical pedigree. I had deliberately avoided seeking out any information about the show, bar looking up the setlist. I had not expected so many Talking Heads numbers, so I had to expand my listening beyond his recent album.

Preshow birdsong

I'm not a Talking Heads aficionado, nor have I followed David's solo career closely, but I was aware of the acclaim for his previous tour, which is why my interest was piqued for this one. 

There was no support act, with the show due to begin at 8 pm. I arrived early, finding the auditorium sparse, though not empty. Birdsong, rather than music, played over the PA (except available on the short video above - DO NOT expect anything to happen). 

The stage is equally bare. A moonscape dominates the floor and the lower section of the semicircular wall, which blocks off the back of the stage. The wall has two gaps and appears to be covered with black drapes, though the lads who later sit beside me debate whether they are screens or curtains. I use my phone camera to zoom in and decide curtains. They decide the moonscape is a projection. 

The show is a complete sellout, so by 8 pm, most people are already in their seats. A message over the PA warns us to 'be present and to limit our phone and video use during the performance for the benefit of those around us. Dancing, however, is allowed, except in the aisles, due to Fire Safety regulations.' This elicits a cheer from the crowd. My view of the right side of the stage is hindered by the tall chap sitting in front, so it's clear I'm not going to be able to film the show anyway. I settle in to take in the experience.

It then occurs to me that there are no instruments or equipment present anywhere. Is everything hidden behind the walls? Would they lift away to reveal a band?

A Glaswegian voice cries out from the Rear Circle, seeking out the location of his mates. They, it turns out, are a few rows in front of me. They shout back, mocking him for trying to find them in the wrong section. The skinny man then makes his way down the steps, focusing all his attention on not spilling the four full pints he is carrying in the square cardboard drinks holder. At his row, everyone stands up to allow him access. Halfway along, he stumbles, yelling an expletive in alarm as the drinks tumble. However, thanks to the quick action of the person he had reached, who grabbed two tumbling pints, disaster was averted. The grateful drinker proceeded to his seat with most of his purchases intact. 

The lights dim. The show begins. 

David and his dozen-strong ensemble flow through the gaps in the wall and adopt their starting positions. They all wear the same blue suits that David wears, even down to the shoes. It becomes clear that the flooring is also a giant screen. The drapes that I believed covered the walls turned out to be images of drapes. Every visible inch of the stage is a screen, used to wonderful effect. It feels like a mini version of the Las Vegas Sphere, though only within the stage. Very clever. 

The musicians carry and play their instruments like a marching band, only with more intricate choreography. This has all been carefully thought out. The backing dancers are also the backing singers. The effect is mesmerising. The sound is full and rich, and I'm in 'Heaven'. 

During one song, the musicians' names appear on the walls, mapping their locations as they move about the stage. The names also appear on the floor beside the white circles, which follow their paths. I can't tell if AI is being used to monitor this or if everything has been precisely choreographed.

For another song, David walks across the stage, his silhouette within a moving spotlight on the wall. When he changes direction, the silhouette doesn't, eliciting a laugh from the crowd as the shadow tries to catch up with him. Again, all very clever.    

David's song introductions weren't always as exacting. He knew what he wanted to say, but when the crowd shouted out, it interrupted his flow. I found the crowd equally distracting. During his less well-known numbers, punters often exited to head to the bar, causing everyone in their row to rise. The same would happen again upon their return. I wish the venue would shut the bars during the performance and insist the staff limit ingress and egress to between songs. If the intention is to be present, I want to experience the show, not the punters needing a piss or a pint.

Anyway, the show itself was an extraordinary experience. As soon as it was over, I was on the internet, looking up ATG, Ticketmaster and Twickets to see if I could get tickets for the Playhouse shows - unfortunately, they were all completely sold out.

Another Scottish pensioner at the top of his game.

Setlist

Heaven (Talking Heads song)

Everybody Laughs

And She Was (Talking Heads song)

Strange Overtones (Brian Eno & David Byrne cover)

Houses in Motion (Talking Heads song)

T Shirt

(Nothing but) Flowers (Talking Heads song)

This Must Be the Place (Naive Melody) (Talking Heads song)

What Is the Reason for It?

Like Humans Do

When We Are Singing

Independence Day

Slippery People (Talking Heads song)

I Met the Buddha at a Downtown Party

My Apartment Is My Friend

Air (Talking Heads song)

Psycho Killer (Talking Heads song)

Life During Wartime (Talking Heads song)

Once in a Lifetime (Talking Heads song)

Encore:

Everybody's Coming to My House

Burning Down the House (Talking Heads song)

Ticket Price: £85.00 + Facility Charge £2.50 + Service Fee £11.50 + Handling Fee £2.50 = Total £101.50 from Ticketmaster

Some photos I cribbed from the internet: 

A few poor ones of my own:

Jim Jefferies, "Son of a Carpenter" Tour, SEC Armadillo, Glasgow Friday 7th November, 2025

I was less than enthusiastic about attending tonight's gig, to the point of considering giving it a miss. I'd had too many disturbed sleeps, and my crankiness was off the chart, manifesting as cortisol in every muscle. I had that trapped inner scream feeling that no amount of swearing would release. Nevertheless, I grabbed my gig jacket and ticket and made my journey in.  

The M8 was crawling long before the roadworks. I settled into the middle lane (the only one that would take me where I needed to go) and stuttered forward, progressing more slowly than the lanes on either side. Watching the idiots on my left slide past, then indicate they were going to join my lane, boiled my head. Fuck them c's, I thought to myself. The further we drove, the more I realised that everyone was doing it. No wonder I was going so slowly. I resolved to take action. No one was getting in front of me. I stuck to the bumper of the transit van in front of me like it was a tow.

When the car on my left indicated and started to slide over, I held my ground, much to his vigorous annoyance. He screamed and gesticulated at me, but I didn't care. Then I saw the police car blocking his lane, and the car broken down on the hard shoulder behind it. I felt so guilty. The rest of the drive was conducted politely, ensuring I did not exceed the speed limit. (In my defence, the person behind me didn't let them in either. 

This change in attitude helped when I arrived at the venue. Three lines and mine moved the slowest, but I wasn't bothered. There was plenty of time. The security check was cursory and swift. I made my way towards the stalls, casually checking my ticket to see which door to use. Then I noticed I was mistaken. My ticket was for the Front Circle, so I turned around and headed for the escalator. 

The view upstairs wasn't great, but it was a comedy show, so no biggie. The crowd seemed sparse, but it filled right up to the brim by showtime.

Andrew Maxwell was our first support act, dispensing with his Radio 4-friendly material in favour of more baser gags, opening with his confession over his use of Viagra and moving on to his father having a cock the size of a Pringles tube, musing on what flavour the purple can was. Sadly, he confessed, he'd inherited his cock from his mother.   

The girl on my left giggled incessantly. It was like she had some sort of stimulatory device connecting the comedian's microphone to her tickle glands. Everything he said elicited a loud, unfiltered laugh. The only time this paused was when she took a sip of her pint.

The men in front of me were in a rowdy mood, not necessarily interested in the support acts, except to heckle. During Glenn Wool's set, their conversations made them laugh so hard that they became unintelligible due to sniggering. I was not amused. And neither were the people around them, drawing looks but no interjections. As such, I can't tell you much about Glenn, as my ire was directed at the men in front. He did reference that he knew he resembled Jack Black and that Canadian beer, being stronger, helps prevent the kind of trouble that weak alcohol enables, acting out a scene where the riled-up drinker tries to stand up, stumbles, then decides to deal with the problem the following day. And there was something about being divorced, but being stuck in Surrey until his daughter was old enough for him to leave. She's three. 

During the interval, Giggle Girl's partner went for more drinks. She used the opportunity to get into everyone's business, starting by asking the man in front if he enjoyed the comedian. I couldn't stop myself from saying out loud, "He wouldn't know. He wasn't listening," followed by an awkward pause as both parties digested my words. Then she giggled. She established many facts about the man: where he was from, where his ex resides and where his daughter now lives. Then she drew me into her intelligence sweep. When her partner returned, she notified him that I was from Paisley, to which he responded that he hated that place, without providing any evidence. I chose to continue the rest of the interval engrossed in my phone.

At this point, Giggle Girl insisted to her partner that she wanted a selfie with him. Then, having taken it, she announced she wanted to take another as her boobs had not been in shot for the first one. I'll admit, my ears pricked up at that moment (just my ears). My eyes left my phone screen as I casually glanced across. I'm sorry to say there was nothing to report. Not even a nip slip. I suspect she had been referring to her cleavage, for which her top contained a convenient horizontal slice. 

Jim Jefferies was awesome. All three acts commanded the stage, but Jim is a class apart. He opened with a bit about how society can be compartmentalised into four sections (in order): 1. Hot women; 2. Hot Men; 3. Ugly Men, and 4. Ugly Women. He pointed out that groups 1 and 2 rarely transition because they are happy. He then expressed his confusion about those guys in group 3 who transition, as they ultimately get demoted into a lower group, losing many societal benefits. 

He also elaborated on his Two-Limb Policy, the subject of his recent Netflix special, extending the routine to include what benefits he would offer quadraplegics. He then pointed out how evil we were for laughing as he'd not sought consent to go down on the woman who was missing all her limbs, and as such, it was technically a rape joke. Twisted, but funny.

Not all his gags were crude. He ended with a funny story about going to dinner with his friend, Russell Crowe. Punchline: I've gone one door too early. His account of how his eighty-three-year-old father found love again was sweet, though undercut by a punchline that subverted the narrative. 

The most unusual moment of the show came after this when the crowd started baying 'Phone your Dad'. This threw Jim momentarily, torn between outright refusal and making the excuse that he didn't have his phone on stage with him. When a girl from the front row came forward and offered him her phone, he took it from her and admitted he didn't know his dad's mobile number off the top of his head. While he did remember the house number, he didn't want to put it into her phone as that would mean she'd have his Dad's number. She'd have to delete it immediately, but even then, that wouldn't work, since the number would still show up on her bill (his dad lives in Australia). So instead, being in possession of her phone, he flipped the situation and started looking through her texts, making it a Michael McIntyre routine about who he could message. He chose to send the recipient of her most recent text an admission that she was, in fact, trans and hoped that he would support her during the change. He pretended she'd have to wait for the end of the show to get her phone back so he could see if there had been a response.

It was then that Giggle Girl demonstrated another of her skills: finger whistling. Not content with laughing, she had to nudge up her response whenever she found something particularly funny by providing a piercing, shrill whistle. Just when I thought I was enjoying myself.         

At the end, surrounded by the smell of stale beer breath, Giggle Girl rushed out to get ahead of the queue for the Ladies, perhaps so she could remove her giggle stimulator before it tore a hole in her clitoris. Or maybe just have a pee. She made it an evening that I won't forget (now I've written it down).

Ticket Price: £60.00 Face value & £11.50 fees, & E-Ticket fee £1.00 & Transaction Fee £1.50 =
Order Total £74.00 from Gigantic.

Errata: Jim actually opened with the revelation that he is being sued by the Village People for saying that YMCA is a gay anthem. The songwriter complained that it is an anthem for many situations, to which Jim replied, "Well, can I pick the gay one?"

Eric Idle "Always Look on the Bright Side of Life LIVE!", SEC Armadillo, Glasgow. Saturday 20th September, 2025.

There was something joyous yet melancholic about this show. The stage was mostly bare, except for a couple of chairs and side tables with stands for sheet music and a guitar. A large screen at the back displayed the title of the event, while brass band music played gently over the PA. There was no merchandise for sale in the foyer, only a couple of banners directing people to The Eric Idle archive via a QR code (or splodge, as it was referred to).  

Eric Idle is quite open about why, at age 82, he is touring, and that is for the money. He even showed us the Monty Python song and dance sketch about Money. I suspect his relative destitution may have arisen due to the cost of his US medical treatment for pancreatic cancer, saving his life but not his bank balance. It's not for the John Cleese excuse, alimony, as Eric has been happily married for decades. 

Rather than spend money employing a band to tour with him, he recorded a virtual band—a trio of musicians—to accompany him on the frequent music numbers. Cheaper that way. Obviously, being a Python, he played with the device, appearing with them at one point when he should have been on stage, getting Mickey Dolenz to fill in, performing I'm a Believer with the band, while he 'rushed' back to join us. He also duetted with Puddles (of Puddle's Pity Party) on the Galaxy Song from Monty Python's The Meaning of Life. 

Essentially, the show was a trip down memory lane for Idle, recounting the standout moments from his life and career, the happy and the sad. He had cue cards tucked in his hands, though he rarely referred to them, except perhaps when he was sitting down waiting for a video clip to finish. He regaled us with showbiz tales, name-dropping frequently but in a matter-of-fact manner, as that was his life back in the day, where the Rolling Stones could pop round for a party while Carrie Fisher and Harrison Ford were staying with him, shooting The Empire Strikes Back. 

Python formed the backbone of the show, as it did his life. He felt so lucky to meet the future Goodies and Pythons during his first year at Uni, going on to perform in Edinburgh and in the West End, then on television and on stage in America, where Python was huge. Their film work brought them into contact with super-fan rock bands, such as Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, and Jethro Tull, who helped finance The Holy Grail, shot nearby at Doune. Thus, he dubbed his career 'Mock and Roll', where music and comedy became intertwined. 

His friendship with George Harrison saved The Life of Brian, as the Beatle mortgaged his home and studio to raise the £4.5 million needed to finance the movie after EMI dropped out due to script concerns. When asked why, George replied, "Because I wanted to see the movie". The most expensive cinema ticket in history, as Eric dubbed it. 

George and Eric were good friends, so Eric found it hard to write a eulogy for him, instead choosing to write a song for him, which he then performed at the funeral and sang again for us tonight over a montage of photos of them together. 

He had to do this again when Robin Williams died. Their lives had intersected many times, both personally and professionally, and it was a sad loss to lose such a comic genius in such a manner. Another photo montage, another melancholic song, another beautiful sendoff.

Not that everyone was treated with such respect. During the Aspen film festival, all five living Pythons were being interviewed by comedian Robert Klein. However, the absent Graham Chapman, absent on account of being dead, did not get to miss out as they'd brought him along in an urn, which Gilliam later 'accidentally' kicked over, knocking his ashes all over the stage. Cue chaos as everyone tried to sweep him back up again, escalating from brooms, to brushes and pans, then to a handheld vacuum cleaner, which their butler engaged.

Idle also covered his other major work, that of The Rutles, his parody of the Fab Four, filmed for NBC, thanks to Lorne Michaels, as they would supply him with a bigger budget than BBC2 could offer. 

Some of his script's jokes were telegraphed, overfamiliar, but I could forgive him for that. He had to say them. It was what the appreciative crowd wanted, and he met their expectations well. Some of the superfans would pump their fists in the air when they recognised a reference or relished the clip being shown. A young female nerd sitting nearby intrigued me with her encyclopedic knowledge of all things Python, as I eavesdropped on her regaling her friend with details I hadn't been aware of, such as how they interrupted each other's audiobooks for comic effect, just as they had on their soundtrack albums. Gavin Mitchell, Boaby from Still Game, was a couple of rows behind me.

I enjoyed seeing Eric's photographs the most. All the clips he played could have been tracked down elsewhere, but his snaps allowed us a deeper insight into his personal life, holidaying with George Harrison, filming with Robin Williams, and partying with the Star Wars actors. 

He brought mirth into many lives over his career. It was a pleasure to be allowed to share a couple of hours in his company. It's unlikely, given his age, that the event will be repeated. 

Spoiler: he finished with a massive fart.      

Ticket Price: £75.00
Per Item Fees £10.15 (Service Charge) x1 & £2.50 (Facility Charge) x1 = £12.65
Handling Fee £2.50
Total £90.15 from Ticketmaster.

Greg Davies "Full Fat Legend" 2025 Stand-Up Tour, SEC Armadillo, Glasgow. Sat 12th April, 2025

My wife enjoyed him. So did the majority of the three thousand punters who packed the Armadillo tonight. I was very much in the minority.

I didn't warm to the support act, Barry Castagnola. His crowd work was lame, consisting of asking the men their first name to see how dull it was in comparison to his own. It led to a comic dead end. That he had to announce after the fact that spraying himself with beer was his closer says it all. 

So, why didn't I enjoy Greg? 

Was it because I'd been awake at stupid o'clock this morning, seemingly in sympathy with the vinyl junkies queuing for Record Store Day? Probably. I was weary.

Was it because we were at the back of the front circle, far enough away not to be able to see his facial expressions properly? That played a part. Comedy is funnier close up. I couldn't even tell if he had hair on his head.

Was it because Greg telegraphed his punchlines? He's already told us his phone is in his pants. Now, he can hear voices. I wonder where they're coming from, for example.

Was it because he consistently sniggered as if the next thing he was about to say was so hilarious he couldn't help himself? He does it all the time. It's not spontaneous. It's scripted and grates when you recognise what he's doing. 

Was it because he appears to have a photographic memory for every funny line anyone has ever said to him, because 'he'll never forget what they said'? Only partially, because what they said was certainly funny and memorable. e.g. "Not finished." 

Was it because the humour was hack? Yes. Silly voices, foreign accents, drinking his own urine, wanking to the Freemans catalogue, Dick dialling an ex girlfriend. Tick. Tick. Tick. No boom, boom. 

I can forgive the juvenile humour. He's already admitted he's a fifty-six-year-old man who's really twelve inside. His "ten times funnier with this line" was indeed ten times funnier each time he used it. 

I'd say his set justified the title Full Fat, but it was not a thing of Legend.  

Three stars, because I did laugh.      

Ticket Price:
2 Full Price Tickets £45.00 x2 = £90.00
Per Item Fees £6.10 (Service Charge Full Price Ticket) x2 & £1.70 (Facility Charge Full Price Ticket) x2 = £15.60
Order Processing Fees Handling Fee (£2.00) £2.00
Total £107.60 from Ticketmaster

There were only £6 fridge magnets left by the end of the show

Anthony Jeselnik, "Bones and All" Tour, SEC Armadillo, Glasgow. Saturday 28th September, 2024.

I missed Anthony Jeselnik when he last played in the UK in 2018 (I could have gone to one of his two midweek 10.30 p.m. shows at the Edinburgh Fringe, but I was a 'responsible' pharmacist who had to work the next day). I have regretted that ever since. He's remained at the top of my comedian bucket list.

Now, I can scratch his name off that list. I wouldn't have missed his performance for anything. Indeed, I even sold my tickets to Simon Brodkin at the Pavilion for tonight so I could go.

On the way to the Armadillo, I noticed a youth in a full Indiana Jones costume. Beside him walked a shorter boy in a black, full-length leather coat and hat, reminiscent of the villain Toht, played by Ronald Lacey in the first Raiders film. I didn't recognise the costumes worn by the two girls. Only later, when I passed an angel with massive wings and another girl/boy dressed in something weird, did I realise it wasn't for a fancy dress party. They had all been to the Acme Comic Con at the SEC, which had just finished for the day.

The Hydro and the Armadillo had a small police presence outside. Perhaps some prankster had alerted them to a possible fight at the location (the Hydro was hosting PFL Europe, an MMA night) or to the presence of youths brandishing weapons (I saw an unmasked Deadpool with crossed swords across his back). Or maybe they were there to arrest Anthony due to reports he was going to kill tonight.

Anthony is a master of misdirection and shock. His dark jokes can actually take your breath away because of the gut punch his punchlines deliver. Anthony won't win any awards for his joke rate; his delivery is deliberately slow and teasing. But when he lands his joke, it'll knock you out every time.

Before the main man, though, we were treated to a support act in the form of Kelly Ryan, a US comic who regularly tours with Anthony. She offered us her tight twenty. She was funny, but sitting in row D of the stalls, I, unfortunately, had a green spotlight shining in my eyeline, causing me to close one eye and then both. I worryingly nearly nodded off and had to force myself to stay awake. 

Fortunately, my attention woke up for Anthony. Dressed in a battered leather jacket and dark jeans, he prowled the stage bathed in red light, adding a devilish tinge to proceedings. His opening material was so sharp I actually winced at one point, covering my mouth and nose with my hands like I'd been punched in the face. His car crash gender reveal party punchline was outstanding. 

Then, I began to predict where some of the jokes would go (revealing him as the villain), thus losing their shock value. He finished with an extended story about working with one of his heroes, Norm McDonald, on Last Comic Standing, which I think would have worked better as an encore story (there was no encore). Perhaps he felt he needed to tell it as a tribute to his late hero. 

He's been touring this material for two years, so it's bound to be filmed for a special soon. It might not have had the same impact on screen that it did live, so I'm glad I finally got to witness him in person. He was brilliant.             

Ticket Price: 

1 Artist Presale Ticket £50.00
£6.75 (Service Charge Artist Presale Ticket) x1
£1.70 (Facility Charge Artist Presale Ticket) x1
Order Processing Fees Handling Fee £2.00
Total £60.45

 

The Simon & Garfunkel Story, SEC Armadillo, Tuesday 24th September, 2024.

This was my wife's pick. I'd dragged her to enough gigs of my choice, and not necessarily to her taste, that I knew not to complain when she suggested we go. I even booked the tickets straight away while we were still sitting (typically early) in The Tron's auditorium awaiting Two Doors Down. 

When we arrived in Glasgow at around 6.45 pm (for a 7.30pm showtime), the streets were unusually quiet, and there were plenty of places to park. The walk to the venue was also less busy than usual. After passing through security and getting our tickets scanned, we entered the Armadillo (not in a zoological sense) and noticed the queues at the main bar were short. They usually go all the way into the main hallway, but not tonight.

Forty minutes to showtime and not a queue in sight

The reason became quickly apparent as the show began. It wasn't anywhere near a sellout. Tranches of seats remained empty, and the downstairs auditorium was perhaps just over half full. There were people on the balcony, too, but from my seating position, I could not see how many.

I didn't know what to expect from this show. The stage set-up had two microphones at the front, various guitars on stands, and a drumkit in the middle at the back. A big screen sat above them against a curtain backdrop depicting New York City. 

No video or photography was allowed during the performance.

What we got was a performance of Simon and Garfunkel's songbook in chronological order with story interludes explaining the pair's journey through their career, from school chums to the biggest-selling musical artists of the early seventies. The interludes detailed their troubled relationship as the duo moved creatively in different directions, eventually breaking up. Mainly, though, the show focused on the music. The singers' harmonies were fantastic throughout. The band was tight. The sound in the auditorium was the best I've heard in there. It helped that our seats were in the middle.

This was neither a simple tribute act nor a theatrical production—it was something in between. Whenever the leads spoke, they spoke as themselves. They used their real names when they referred to each other. The actor playing Art had an actorly, overpronounced diction, while the one playing Paul had a more Northern English regional accent.   

At times, it felt like I was watching a band entertaining a group of pre-geriatrics in a nursing home, the elderly audience responding to the singers' requests to clap or sing along with old-time glee (but without the stamina to continue for very long). Near the end, one woman got up to dance, her arms extended at ten and two, moving up and down to the music, one hand still clutching her pint tumbler. She sang her heart out but only lasted half the song before realising she was the only one standing and sank back down again.

A man behind us had an awful cough, which somewhat spoiled the musical offering. During every song in the first half, he'd punctuate the air with the sound of resistant phlegm. At one point, I even considered turning around and shoving a Werther's Original in his mouth, telling him to shut up and suck it. I didn't. I only had two left and was saving them to share with my wife during the interval (we are so hip replacement). His singing voice was not much better. It could best be described as a disharmonious drone, albeit a stealthily quiet one.  

At the end, the performers received a standing ovation but only for a short time. As people were already on their feet, many made a beeline for the exit. It didn't take long for everyone to get out. 

I still enjoyed it. It was something a little different.

Blurb:

Direct from a weeklong run in London’s West End at the Vaudeville Theatre, a SOLD-OUT Worldwide tour and standing ovations at every performance, The Simon & Garfunkel Story continues to stun audiences across the globe! Using huge projection photos, original film footage and a full live band performing all the hits including 'Mrs Robinson', 'Cecilia', 'Homeward Bound' and many more."

Ticket Price: Ticketmaster

2 Full Price Ticket £41.45 x2 = £82.90 

Per Item Fees £1.70 (Facility Charge Full Price Ticket) x2 = £5.60 

(Service Charge Full Price Ticket) x2 = £14.60 

Order Processing Fees Handling Fee £2.00 

Total £99.50 

Jools Holland Autumn Tour 2023, SEC Armadillo. Saturday 2nd December 2023

 

When they announced this gig, I asked my wife if she fancied going and, to my surprise, she said yes (I should have known because she loves a good piano player). so, I ordered the tickets.

I then listened to a few of Jools' albums, and they didn't grab me. I figured maybe, though, with the whole band live in front of me, I'd get into the vibe.

A couple of inches of snow had fallen, enough to prevent the bin men from emptying our bins, but not enough to prevent the grey brigade from coming out in droves for tonight's gig. The men were mostly bald or grey; the women, well, they had whichever hair colour the hairstylist added. Everyone was well-behaved. Our seats were in the Front section of the Grand Circle. No one stood, at least initially; a few getting to their feet towards the end. Everyone followed the etiquette of 'no cameras' until about halfway through when one man in the front row flicked his open to video proceedings. Then most of the women near me brought out theirs and began recording random snippets in portrait, sending them on via WhatsApp. My view was partially obscured by one tall gentleman sitting in front of me. Not enough to annoy me but enough to know any pictures I took would miss out on the saxophonists at the front on the right, so my camera stayed in my pocket (except for one shot at the end). I endeavoured to enjoy this gig in the moment.

And failed.

It wasn't that it was bad. It wasn't. The band performed to an exceptional level. I admired their talents, especially Jools, whose piano skills appeared so effortless. He came across exactly as he does on 'The Tube' or 'Later with...', a charismatic music man with a smile and a quip and a love of all forms of music. Each musician got their turn at the front, showing off their skills. It was a bit weird at first, watching them shuffle out to the front from their position, adjusting the mic stand for their instrument, then tootle away for a few bars before giving a nod, salute or bow, returning to their spot again. The backing singers each got their time in the spotlight, front and centre, singing a couple of tunes. 

Mid-set, special guests, Pauline Black and Arthur 'Gaps' Hendrickson (of The Selecter) performed three of their songs with the band, turning the vibe from boogie-woogie to two-tone before Ruby Turner came on the blow us away with her powerful Gospel-tinged vocals. 

I was familiar with a couple of the songs played tonight, my favourite being "Enjoy Yourself (It's Later Than You Think), the song Simon Mayo often plays on his radio show.

My wife thoroughly enjoyed the gig, commenting afterwards about how long Jools Holland's fingers were. To me, it looked like he was splaying his fingers, hitting random keys, yet somehow generating brilliant piano music in whatever style the song required. It was cool how they used the big screen to show his fingerwork, and his face while he was singing. He's an excellent host: quirky, convivial and funny. I'm sure everyone loved the night. It just wasn't for me. 

I should have stayed at home and watched Doctor Who.

Ticket Price: Total £109.90 for two (£46 face value) via Ticketmaster.

Setlist (incomplete)

 Ain't Misbehavin' (Fats Waller cover)

Them There Eyes (Billie Holiday cover)

Waterloo Bridge

Just a Whisper (The Selecter cover)

Too Much Pressure (The Selecter cover)

On My Radio (The Selecter cover)

Blueberry Hill (Fats Domino cover)

The Piano

Peace in the Valley

Encore:

Enjoy Yourself (It's Later Than You Think) (Tommy Dorsey and His Orchestra cover)

Well Alright 

The Band

Jools Holland (Piano/Guitar)

Ruby Turner (Vocals)

Louise Marshall (Vocals)

Sumudu Jayatilaka (Vocals)

Gilson Lavis (Drums/Percussion)

Mark Flanagan (Guitar)

Dave Swift (Bass)

Christopher Holland (Organ/Piano)

Phil Veacock (Saxophone)

Michael 'Bammi' Rose (Saxophone)

Derek Nash (Saxophone)

Anna Brooks (Saxophone)

Nick Lunt (Baritone Saxophone)

Roger Goslyn (Trombone)

Fayyaz Virji (Trombone)

Winston Rollins (Trombone)

Jason McDermid (Trumpet)

Jon Scott (Trumpet)

Chris Storr (Trumpet)

Blurb:

Jools Holland and his revered Rhythm & Blues Orchestra return with their 2023 autumn tour.

Renowned as one of the UK's most popular tours, this year the show will feature The Selecter's Pauline Black and Arthur 'Gaps' Hendrickson as special guests. With support from Galia Arad.

Fans will be thrilled to hear that the shows will once again feature the outstanding vocals of Ruby Turner and Louise Marshall, as well as the highly talented Sumudu Jayatilaka, who joined Jools for the first time in 2022. Together with the inimitable musicianship of the Rhythm & Blues Orchestra, which features drums from original Squeeze member Gilson Lavis, Jools Holland will be performing tracks spanning his entire solo career. With a catalogue that reaches through decades, prepare to enjoy the greatest boogie-woogie party in town!

Before

The end

Jimmy Carr. Terribly Funny 2.0, SEC Armadillo, Glasgow. Friday 3rd November 2023

Jimmy Carr has an incredible mind for joke writing, especially when mining the dark corners of society's taboos, so it's always fun to hear the audience's reactions to his comedy. He is supremely confident on stage and knows exactly how to take down any heckler. Every line, every pause, every expression is there to serve the laugh, the giggle, the hoot and the guffaw.

We had two tickets to his show (which was convenient as there were two of us). JLS had sold out the OVO Hydro next door so, on the way to the Armadillo, as we passed through the Red Smartie tube, we had to endure a deafening mass of chattering young ladies dressed in belt skirts and black jackets.  A few were silent but only because they were sucking on vapes, sending vapour plumes into the air like steam trains (or possibly steaming trains). It was the first time I felt I needed ear protectors before a gig.

It didn't take long to get into the venue, though the queues for the bar were so long they came out to meet me in the vestibule. I think the gig might have been delayed because of this, with Jimmy not coming on at 8pm as advertised but nearer 8.20 pm. 

Our seats were good: middle of the middle stalls. The man sitting beside me on my right had packed all his laughter vowels, starting with ha-ha-ha (like a Scottish Sid James), moving onto hee hee hee (high pitched, like a little girl), finishing with ho ho ho (like an asthmatic Santa) before erupting with a wheezy fit of coughing. I'm sure the alcohol was purely medicinal to quell his COPD. He was so up for this gig, he even shouted out a heckle as Jimmy came on stage. I sank a little in my chair, thinking, "Oh dear, here's one". Fortunately, that was the start and finish of his audience participation. 

I felt the first half of the show was too long, the punishing frequency of gag after gag beginning to hurt. The second half was looser, with more audience interaction to slow up the joke rate and was more enjoyable for it. Near the end, he regaled us with the jokes that nearly had him cancelled (all of which I'd heard) then finished with a series of texts that people had sent in, displaying them for him (and us) to read from the big screen. Many seemed scripted ie written by him to ensure the section was funny, but a few were definitely from the audience. One girl had texted in that she had dislocated her ankle and broken her foot in three places during sex after she jumped off her partner when the door went. When Jimmy enquired incredulously if this was true, she produced her walking cane to prove it. Why she felt the need to share this particular anecdote with three thousand others, I have no idea.  

Overall, the show was incredibly good value, with two hours of laughter, packed with funny, well-told and suitably dark jokes. The one that drew the biggest ooh from the audience was: "What's the best thing to remove chewing gum from hair? Cancer." Ouch! 

On the way out, I spotted a FB pal, someone from my school days, and waved. He nodded back but obviously didn't recognise me. He and his wife walked on, leaving me once again thinking I remain the anonymous punter. 

Ticket Price: £79.20 for two tickets via Ticketmaster (bloody fees - Face value £32.50) 

Dara Ó Briain, "So...Where Were We?" Tour, SEC Armadillo, Glasgow. Thursday 20th April, 2023

Tour blurb:

"At the end of his last tour, Dara had performed the show "Voice Of Reason" 180 times, over 2 years across 20 countries, from Auckland to Reykjavik, from Moscow to New York; and by March 2020 he was ready for a break!

He would now like to apologise for saying that and will never wish for anything like that again.

Yes, he's back on tour and will never stop again, because that's clearly what caused all this trouble. Instead, in his new show 'So... Where Were We?', Dara will hardly mention the last year and a half, because, Jesus, who wants to hear about that, but will instead fire out the usual mix of stories, one-liners, audience messing, and tripping over his words because he is talking too quickly because he's so giddy to be back in front of a crowd."

This was an odd gig. I don't know if it was due to the crowd atmosphere or the venue's aesthetics but Dara seemed to have to work awfully hard to land the jokes. He is normally a natural at crowd work, using it to smooth the links between bits, referring back to individuals whenever relevant. Tonight, his crowd interactions all seemed crowbarred in just before the interval, like he'd forgotten he needed a roster to punctuate his later jokes. Then again, given the nature of that material, maybe he didn't need them but did it anyway like muscle memory. 

In the first half, he discussed what it was like growing up in Ireland and how the craic often trumps the truth when it comes to relating a good tale. He told us of the time as a baby he'd fallen head-first into a drain, with all the garnish his mother afforded the story. Then he told us how he found out the truth. Some of the references didn't travel well, evoking a silent stare from the audience when he expected a belly laugh, forcing him to explain how an Irish audience would react to his story. It's not funny if you have to explain it. The same applied to a gag whose punchline required the listener to know the meaning of the German word Schadenfreude.    

The Irish cultural references continued in the second half. The bulk of the set involved a long routine about his search to find his natural mother, having been taken from her and adopted as a baby. For reasons best known to the Catholic Church and the Irish State this was a common occurrence at the time. Back home in Ireland, this material packed a punch. Over here, not so much, with Dara having to explain the cultural significance.   

Comedians like Dara need life experiences to source their funny so a pandemic of nearly two years rather messed with his creative opportunities. He crafted a particularly personal story but I'm not sure it worked for this audience. I give him credit for going there though.  

The final oddity of the night arose as a consequence of the gig overrunning. Dara had started late, at 7.45 pm instead of 7.30 pm, so, as we left, it sounded like the sound person had downed tools, the music abruptly stopping mid-song, leaving us to shuffle out in silence. Way to kill off any post-gig atmosphere. 

Ticket price: £23 x2 plus service charge £3.15 and facility charge £1.75 (via Ticketmaster)

Because nothing sells comedy better than sitting under spooky UV light 

Marti Pellow, Popped In Souled Out with the Royal Scottish National Orchestra. SEC Armadillo, Sunday 26th March, 2023

Last night, Marti brought the party to the SEC Armadillo, along with the RSNO and a full backing band. The atmosphere felt like a hen night, the place crammed with ladies of a certain age reliving their youth (plus husbands and boyfriends, natch). They sang, danced and held up their cameras to take pictures and videos (one lady was using a full-size tablet). They even sang him an impromptu Happy Birthday song when he mentioned his recent birthday (23rd March 1965, if you're interested). 

In the first half, he looked cool dressed in his slimline, three-piece suit and shades. He told us how he's come to accept that his past is now his future and how these songs made him who he is today. He enjoyed himself immensely, so proud to have an orchestra and the chance to play that first album again in front of his home crowd. 

After the interval, he wore a purple suit, styled more like the Joker (minus the green hair but still grinning), and played the rest of his greatest hits. This part of the show felt more alive with hit after hit. 

 

I enjoyed the gig but felt a little out of place. It might have been to do with the venue, a place I appreciate more for comedy than music. The stocky woman on my left was so enthusiastic, she roared approval after every song and regularly stood up to dance a twist, her elbows regularly jabbing towards me. I feared for my glasses at one point as her dance moves came seriously close to my head. 

Marti's vocals were excellent but I felt the string section sometimes got a little lost, unable to find us at the back of the front circle, drowned out by the rest of the band. I also felt the show lacked spectacle. I wanted more than just a static orchestra, blinding spotlights and Marti dancing across the stage. He is a good showman though.         

He's taking the party across to the OVO Hydro next year. Having sampled it once, I think that was enough for me. I'll give the next one a miss.

Ticket Price: £55 (£64.15 inc fees)

Setlist

Popped In Souled Out

Wishing I Was Lucky

East of the River

I Remember

Angel Eyes

Sweet Little Mystery

I Don't Believe (Sonny's Letter)

Temptation

I Can Give You Everything

The Moment You Left Me

Words of Wisdom

Don’t Let Me Be Lonely Tonight

World in Another

Greatest Hits

Steamroller (James Taylor cover)

Love Is All Around (The Troggs cover)

Lip Service

Sweet Surrender

Ain't No Stopping Us Now / Le Freak (McFadden & Whitehead cover)

This Time

Don't Want To Forgive Me Now

Goodnight Girl

Encore:

Both Sides Now (Joni Mitchell cover)

With a Little Help From My Friends (The Beatles cover)