Katherine Ryan: Glitter Room Tour, Pavilion Theatre, Glasgow. Thurs 8th Mar 2018.

Ashley Storrie supported. She's a bit like a young hybrid of Kevin Bridges and Sarah Millican and funny with it. Performing at THE Glasgow Pavilion was a big step up for her but she handled it superbly, the only sign of nerves being the regular checking of her watch. The home crowd loved her.

I was disappointed by Katherine. I expected the Acid Queen, displaying a biting wit in the style of Joan Rivers. Instead, she was warm and inclusive, presenting some well-crafted comedy about her life and daughter and some material about her perspective on the world. Her claws were razor-sharp but little used. I had heard some of the lines before from her telly work too, which always takes the shine off.

It wasn't that it wasn't funny. The females in the audience lapped it up like kittens mewing for their mother's teat. In fact, their howls of laughter was a little off-putting due to the disparity in my ears between the laugh delivered and their OTT reaction.

She is sharp, her vocal work outstanding, her call-backs clever but belly laughs were rare for me. It felt tame like she was holding back from the gut-busting laughs she is capable of. Maybe she is just getting tired as the tour is nearly finished. Or more likely she just wasn't for me.

And on those grounds, Sarah Pascoe is still my favourite female comedian.

Paloma Faith, The Architect Tour, SSE Hydro, Glasgow. Tues 6th Mar 2018

Midweek gigs are often subdued affairs, even in Glasgow. Everyone seemed to enjoy Paloma but it felt like something was lacking. Not that people weren't partaking of the amber nectar. Mr Brewery-Breath beside me supped two pints slowly over the course of the evening before nipping off early with the wife (his, not mine) before the final number. Maybe that was the problem: people had work the next day.

The support act was a guy called XamVolo. He looked cool in his stylish coat with furry lapels. It might have been due to the cold weather but I like to think he kept it on to reassure us he wasn't staying. His smooth jazzy pop grooves did nothing for me.

When the lights went back up after his set, the Glesga burds populating the private box behind us clucked and cackled like it was a hen party. One even screeched in a manner reminiscent of the sound I make pushing out a stubborn jobbie. I knew she was going to be trouble.

When the lights went out again and the curtain pulled back to reveal the stage, I was underwhelmed. For a tour promoting an album called 'The Architect', I felt the design was somewhat lacking: plastic crystals in a hill shape, bordered by a staircase on either side. The structure didn't even fill the stage. It wouldn't have looked out of place as a Dr. Who set from the seventies. Indeed, with the illuminated stairs leading up to the sparkly sphere at the back, I almost expected the Nimon to strut out in their platform boots, instead of Paloma. I liked the lighting though.

Her band was a lot tighter this time, with no dodgy brass section in tuxedos to ham about. She played a lot of numbers from the new album. When it came to her first quiet number, the box burds erupted in a sweary slanging match as one side refused to stay quiet. Sweary warnings were met with equally vulgar responses until even the people around us started to vocalise their unhappiness at them for ruining the sweet ballad. No one was physically hurt though. As I said, a subdued night in Glasgow.

Regardless of these niggles, I enjoyed the concert. Paloma's voice is strong, her range incredible, her tunes catchy and she is such a character. The little girl from Hackney has come a long way, never forgetting her roots even if she is a total space cadet. For example, she has this idea that the world would be a better place if everyone gave 50p of kindness away every day. She has an impish sense of fun for which the audience loves her.

Finally, I think the gig would have been better if it hadn't been all seated. Paloma finished strong with a lot of dance numbers but with everyone seated the energy was lost.

In summary, a good, but not great, gig.

Setlist
Evolution (Intro)
The Architect
Crybaby
Guilty
My Body
Lost and Lonely
Warrior
I’ll Be Gentle
Just Be
Kings and Queens
Can't Rely on You
Picking Up The Pieces
WW3
Tonight's Not Only Night
Lullaby
Til I’m Done
Changing (Sigma cover)

Encore:
Still Around
Only Love Can Hurt Like This
Love Me as I Am

Stereophonics, SSE Hydro, Glasgow. Sat 24th Feb 2018.

I had a few reservations about our seats tonight, sitting as we were in the row below the disabled area on the lower balcony. It really deters you from standing knowing they can't.

On with the review...

If Mock the Week had a music category, Dara might ask 'If Ten Tonnes is the answer, what is the question?'

I would say, 'What weight would I like dropped on the Stereophonics' support act to stop him playing?' He sang 'Baby I was born to lose'. Correct.

Next...

Stereophonics are like a Welsh Coldplay. They've been around for years doing their thing, with a charismatic frontman who crafts good tunes, plays multiple instruments and holds the audience in his sway. The band is tight and there's no messing about. They pump out hit after hit.

Tonight, Kelly's boys were in fine form. Despite the sound being a bit fuzzy at first, his voice was clear, filling the cavernous space with grace. With twenty-one years of songs, they have a great back catalogue of hits to pull from, mixing the old with the new. The staging was simple, using the walkway sparingly but to good effect. It was amazing to see the drummer rising from it still playing when he'd started at the back.

Playing for over two hours, they entertained us all and I for one rocked harder in my seat than a wheelchair-bound epileptic having a seizure.

Of course, no review would be complete without discussing the punters.

I now have greater tinnitus in my right ear thanks to the Whistler beside me. My response became almost Pavlovian, covering my ear every time he lifted his fingers to his mouth.

A Saturday night in Glasgow wouldn't be complete without one man so inebriated he needed to be poured into his seat. He lasted half the show then his wife helped him out. He paused to ogle at one lady, his face close enough to kiss her, but his brain was operating autonomically so he couldn't do anything more than stare before being moved on by her pals. He got a cheer when he dramatically failed to lift his foot high enough for the first step and slipped down the stairs. He needed assistance to get up. I doubt he'll remember anything about it.

In our row, we had Oompah Loompah in pearls and her pal Morticia in Red who really should have bought aisle seats given the numerous trips they made to get wine or get rid of wine. They danced like they were punching invisible gym bags to the beat of the drum while sloshing wine glass maracas. Class in a plastic glass as it were.

A good night. I'd love to see the band in a more intimate venue but for now, that's one more chalked off the bucket list.

Setlist

Chances Are

Caught by the Wind

C'est La Vie

More Life in a Tramp's Vest

I Wanna Get Lost With You

Cryin' in Your Beer

Have a Nice Day

All in One Night

Superman

Geronimo

Maybe Tomorrow

Stripped Set On B Stage

I Wouldn't Believe Your Radio

Handbags and Gladrags (Mike d’Abo cover)

Boy on a Bike (Acoustic)

Main Set Part 2

Mr. Writer

What's All the Fuss About?

Indian Summer

Graffiti on the Train

Sunny (Kelly on the piano)

Just Looking

Traffic (Kelly Acoustic Solo)

Local Boy in the Photograph

A Thousand Trees

The Bartender and the Thief (with segment of "Ace of Spades" by Motorhead)

Encore:

Mr and Mrs Smith

Taken a Tumble

Dakota

John Kearns, 'Don't Worry They're Here', The Stand, Glasgow. Mon 29th Jan 2018

The Guardian describes his comedy as "richly idiosyncratic" (on the poster). I'd never seen him before but was interested based on his comic pedigree: two Edinburgh awards (best newcomer and best show).

The initial outlook didn't look good. No queue to get in at 7.35pm. No Mr Big Issue bantering and badgering us to buy his "shite" magazine. Once inside, two sections of the room were curtained off, with chairs and tables stacked to the side to make it smaller, more square. There was no one buying drinks at the bar and only two people sitting at the tables. Obviously not a sellout.

However, the show isn't due to start till 8.30 and slowly the reduced space begins to fill. They eventually set up an extra six chairs on the balcony and a few bar stools at the back wall to accommodate pay-at-the-door guests. It feels cosy.

Support act, Donald Alexander, is from Glasgow. His comedy character is odd. His opener is to do an impression of a man outside a used car dealership. It's very visual, making good use of his lankiness. His material is offbeat. Some of it doesn't work but he's young so plenty of time to grow. He does a good 20 mins.

John Kearns' character, with his monk wig and false teeth, immediately sets a weird, awkward tone. He reveals his world to us so clearly, with specific details, observations and expressions, that laughs are drawn from thin air. It's funny because it feels familiar, even though most of it is probably fictional. It's a rounded character who will never get on top, given the cards life has dealt him, but that doesn't stop him being the man he is, making the most of it. It's bizarre but wonderful.

It's a shame that there were less than a hundred people present.

Jim Jefferies - The Unusual Punishment Tour, SEC Armadillo, Glasgow. Sun 21st Jan 2018

You might think Jim has mellowed now that he's rich and famous, a father and a tv star with his own show in the States. Then he says something so outrageous you forget to breathe for laughing. He has cut down on his misogynistic material but nothing is ever really off limits.

Tonight, a trio of trolls arrive late, having written off their rear wheel drive BMW in the snow. Their seats are in the middle of the third row (not the BMW's - that would have been a really bad crash). I'm sitting nearby in the fourth row (good seat, near the front and unusually in the stalls, as my wife prefers the circle, away from danger). I know about the car incident as hoodie troll number one uninvitedly relates the story to Jim. Then proceeds to believe he's the star of the show and keeps interrupting. Jim closes him down like a Jongleurs' professional, with put down after put down. It is an art form to listen to. Fortunately, it doesn't spoil the show and leads us into two fabulous heckle stories involving a down syndrome man and a lady who'd miscarried six weeks earlier (during a kicking dead babies around in heaven routine).

This kind of material was why I'd try to dissuade my wife from coming. I didn't think it would be her thing. But then my mate got ill and plan B became plan D so she came with me, albeit with as frosty an atmosphere as it was outside.

Time was tight before we left after a longer than expected dog walk in the snow. I didn't change out of my walking boots and heavy coat so we could leave immediately. I thought it would be okay to wear anyway given the conditions. It wasn't until we were in the queue outside the venue that I realised I still had my Nightsearcher Commander torch in my jacket pocket. This is a serious piece of hardware, capable of 1000 lumens, with a solid metal chassis. Not the kind of tool you should be carrying to a comedy gig. There wasn't time to go back to the car.

Worry became panic as we got closer to the door. If I got patted down, they'll definitely feel it in my pocket. I'd have to hand it in. I considered putting it down my pants but then wondered if there was a metal detector beyond the door. How would I explain the beeps when they waved the hand held over my crotch? It's not the kind of area that normally needs illuminating, especially with a thousand lumens. Fortunately, they neither patted me down nor used a metal detector. Security consisted of handbag checks only. Jim Jefferies, you are lucky to be alive. But at least I could have pitched in if a spotlight failed.

Did my wife like the show? No.
Why? It was too cold. 
Now I know why she really prefers to sit in the circle - it's warmer.

I thought he was fantastic. A masterclass in storytelling comedy.

GUN, Glasgow Barrowlands, Sat 2nd Dec 2017.

Sometimes I wonder what's the point in living. I'm getting older with fewer years in front than behind; I have a career that's gone into reverse and my writing is stalling - It's not that I can't, it's more that I don't, which is worse. I could just get out while the going's good.

My wife would miss me briefly but she'd find someone else - she's a catch.

Then I go to the Barrowland to see GUN supported by Dirty Thrills and Mason Hill and it reminds me why I am alive. My misery shell cracks open, I reawaken my pumping heart, beating to the rhythm of the drums, and I find my voice again to sing loudly along to the tunes that rocked my youth (and more recently). It's a fabulous feeling that leaves me not a little hoarse and totally buzzing, especially in the ears.

It wasn't their best gig. It was good but was spoiled by a couple of technical glitches with the sound. Dante obviously isn't concerned by all the stories of men in power abusing their position as he kissed and hugged his band, expressing his joy at performing at the Barrowland again, a feat which got them inducted today into the venue's hall of fame. They killed with the old stuff and we raised the roof singing along. The newer songs fitted in nicely too.

I missed most of the first support act but was fascinated by Dirty Thrills singer's wiggle dance during their last number. The song was reminiscent of Soundgarden in its riff. Mason Hill, with their thumping, long hair rock, sounded similar in the style to Alterbridge or Shinedown - if those bands had a lead singer from Glasgow. It was heavy and melodic but didn't reach the parts in me that were craving for GUN. Their debut album is out next year. I'll maybe give it a listen.

I suppose my learn from tonight is life is a sum of experiences. It's not a bank balance or a calendar to check off. It's not pre-worry about a future that hasn't happened or ruminating about events that have gone before. It's about finding your "Favourite Pleasure" in the now and enjoying it.

I love GUN. Now that it's over -(Don't Say It's Over)- I just need to find the next thing to look forward to.

Who said Who?

Setlist

She Knows
Here's Where I Am
Don't Say It's Over
Word Up! (Cameo cover)
Favourite Pleasures
Money (Everybody Loves Her)
Welcome to the Real World
Hold Your Head Up
Taking on the World
Black Heart
Tragic Heroes
Better Days
Inside Out
Steal Your Fire
Boy Who Fooled the World
Take Me Down
Shame on You
(You Gotta) Fight for Your Right (To Party!) (Beastie Boys cover)

Big Country plus The Skids, Paisley Town Hall. Fri 17th Nov 2017.

A sold-out gig, stacked to the rafters, this one off (or possibly first of) show saw the two bands who share a mutual history take to the Paisley stage to blow the roof off (and other rock cliches).

I was expecting Big Country to be the main act, given the ticket said so, but it was not to be.

Big Country appeared first to play a rousing, chant-a-long set of oldies but goodies (now some 34 years old). The lead guitarist did most of the chat between songs, introducing the other band members and bantering, which was unusual as this role is normally adopted by the main singer. Not that the singer was shy. I think he was giving the senior band member his place. Anyway, I loved them but it could have been a bit longer (where have I heard that before?)

Then on came The Skids, often seen as a precursor to BG. Now, I didn't know much about them beforehand, except Richard Jobson (ponsy 80's tv presenter with a penchant for fancy suits and culture programmes) was previously in the band and they had a couple of famous hits ("Working for the Yankee Dollar" and "Into the Valley"). And Stuart Adamson was in both bands. It was, therefore, a surprise to see them as the main act, given, I thought, Big Country was the bigger band.

But after the first song, I understood why.

The Skids did blow the roof off with a chugging punk rock sound, as the energetic main man, Richard Jobson, danced and kicked and spun and sang and loved every minute. The crowd of mainly 40-50-year-olds went nuts, bouncing and clapping and jumping and singing along to the old numbers. The spirit of the late 70s/early 80s imbued us all as we became teenagers again (not in a 'Cocoon' way). I was surprised there weren't more cardiac arrests though.

The two Big Country guitarists were part of the band, performing twice on the night (did they get double money?), but this time the lead guitarist settled for more of a background role as Richard held court over the audience. Which he did very well.

Only complaint: it was too short and they finished with a new song that sounds like it was written by a 50-year-old (it rhymes 'fire' and 'desire'). It would have been better to end on 'Into the Valley', their most well-known hit and the most well-received song of the night.

But a brilliant gig nonetheless. And so nice to see so many familiar faces in the crowd.

Apologies to the nice ladies I stood up tonight for this gig. You know who you are. Another time.