James, 'Live in 2024', OVO Hydro, Glasgow. Friday 7th June, 2024

I was never into James in my youth. They were a Manchester pop band, and I was into rock, two mutually exclusive musical spheres. I was aware of their pop hits but never owned any of their albums. They just weren't my thing.

Then, after reuniting online with my uni class, Paul Sheehan raved to me about how good James was live, enough for me to take a fresh listen. I was blown away by Tim's voice and how catchy the choruses were, and I discovered that they had continued to create great new music. They stayed on my playlists. When this concert was announced, I had to get tickets. 

Razorlight was an indie act I had never got into back in the noughties. Tonight, they did themselves proud. If they'd been an unknown band, I'd have said they have a few good songs, perhaps not enough to encourage me to dive into their catalogue. The standout moment came during Golden Touch when the crowd took over the chorus. That took me by surprise; the loud crowd knew all the lyrics.  

The staging for James seemed quite sparse, comprising a series of raised platforms with steps down into the pit in front of the audience. At the back, a giant central screen was flanked by walls of lights, with big screens on either side of the stage. Notably, the band had two drumkits and lots of microphone stands. I wondered how many singers they had. 

The crowd on the floor level packed the hall from front to back. I'd never seen it so busy. Upstairs, there were a few gaps, and I wondered if security at one of the entrances had made a booboo and wrongly handed out the standing wristbands to everyone. My only evidence for this was when I noticed that the four people sitting beside us were all wearing them.

Before James came on, a muffled announcement requested that we put away our cameras. From my elevated position, I could see a few of the multitude of screen lights in the standing area going dark, but not many. Still, the seed was planted, so I decided this was one show I wouldn't try to film. Just as well, given the number of latecomers and people needing out during the performance. Aisle seats are great for a quick exit but not so good for the number of times you need to get up to let people out. One bald man in a previous James tour T-shirt went out three times during the show. Maybe he'd seen them so often he didn't mind missing a few songs. I did snap a few photos, though.

Without much fanfare, the James collective strolled up the ramp onto the stage, with lead singer Tim at the tail, and took up their positions, opening with She's a Star. Four more backing singers from a Manchester choir joined them from time to time, making thirteen performers on stage. That's value for money. Many of the band members are multi-instrumentalists, and they all showed off their talents and had a great time. What was great was how they all looked like they were having fun.  

Tim likes to get close to his audience, singing from various platforms on the front barrier. Sometimes, he sings while walking amongst the crowd, and sometimes, he sings while crowd surfing (that was an amazing sight—talk about carrying a tune). He is not amused by the cameras, though, as people need two hands to support him, and he warned us he wouldn't come into the crowd if he saw them. 

His dancing is amazing. He's so loose and limber he moves with all the carefreeness of a garage forecourt inflatable (and still makes it look cool). He shines so brightly under the lights that my camera often couldn't bring him into focus (which I'm sure he'd be pleased with). 

The screen graphics were deceptively clever, utilising 3D technology to make it appear the flower was coming out of the screen and, later, that the butterflies were flying. During Mobile God, the one song Tim said we should film, the people on the screen flickered with fluctuating cyber overlays. I suspect some AI trickery was at work there, as it was all conducted in real-time.  

I loved the harmonies on Beautiful Beaches, and Sit Down was simply sublime. My only disappointment was that they didn't play Is This Love from the new album. They played it elsewhere on the tour, so I guess I was just unlucky tonight.  

A super night. 

Afterwards, as we left the venue, the smell of hash was incredible despite the hoolie blowing. I guess James fans can only last so long without their next hit. 

Setlist

She's a Star

Tomorrow

Our World

Rogue (Live Debut)

Life's a Fucking Miracle

Born of Frustration

Waltzing Along

Getting Away With It (All Messed Up)

Shadow of a Giant

Five-O

Better With You

Just Like Fred Astaire

Sit Down

Mobile God

Sometimes (Lester Piggott)

Encore:

Way Over Your Head

Beautiful Beaches

Come Home

Laid

Ticket Price: 2 OVO Live Presale Ticket £65.00 x2 = £130.00 

Order Processing Fees £21, Handling Fee £2.00 

Total £153.00 

Oh oh, he's spotted the camera

Guess which song this was. 

Now that is a bow

Two Doors Down: Live! (BBC Comedy Festival), Tron Theatre, Glasgow. Thursday 23rd May, 2024

Occasionally, I get lucky. I read about this event on the Chortle website as part of the promotion for the BBC Comedy Festival being held in Glasgow. By chance, I was on leave when the tickets became available. I thought it would sell out in seconds, especially as the Festival is primarily aimed at those in the industry, but somehow, I managed to snag two seats.

All nine members of the cast were present for the read-through of two episodes:  "Anniversary" (from series four, 2019) and "Vegas" (from series seven, 2023). Although the actors were reading their lines, seated in a semicircle on stage, their characters sprung to life straight off the page, their delivery familiar to all yet still piercingly funny. It was such a joy to be present for this. When the cast occasionally cracked up, triggered by someone's expression or a look, their laughs were contagious as we recognised that they were genuine. Kieran went further during the first episode finale, leaving his seat to throw himself into his expressive drunk dance, drawing bigger laughs the more outlandish his moves became. Definitely more Kieran than Gordon on display.

During the Q&A, the cast paid tribute to the writing, commenting that everything was there on the page. Elaine C. Smith told us how she came to be involved in the series; unbeknownst to her, the writers created the character of Christine specifically with her in mind. No one knew what happened to her offscreen husband. 

They paid tribute to Simon Carlyle, the series co-creator, who passed away last year, commenting he was often on set, watching every take, making notes and changing lines like a mischievous imp determined to bring out more funny. The cast often had to do over fifty takes for every scene (the record was seventy-three) so that every character's reaction could be captured for the edit. Grado admitted, having admired Jonathon Watson's comedy career for years, notably on Only An Excuse, that one day he nudged his hero just before the cameras rolled and asked him to do his Graeme Souness.  

Everyone in the audience wanted to know, "Will there be any more?" Unfortunately, the answer was unclear. Reading between the lines, it looks like Simon Carlyle was so integral to the production that it would be difficult to do more without him. The cast hadn't all been in the same room since his funeral (until today), which was bittersweet for them. They all want to do more, to put a bow on it, as Elaine commented,  but it is more likely to be on stage rather than on TV. 

I didn't take any pictures during the show. I was too scared. The ushers were like ninjas, pouncing on anyone who raised their phone. I did take a couple at the end, though. 

They obviously hadn't rehearsed the final bow.

Ticket Price: Free. (or should I say priceless?) 

Blurb

Two Doors Down Cast: The beloved cast of the award-winning sitcom “Two Doors Down” will bring the laughter to the stage as they perform episodes from the series and engage in a lively Q&A session.

The Big Fab Comedy Show with Larry Dean, St Lukes, Glasgow. Sunday 19th May, 2024

The Gilded Balloon is running a series of these mixed-bill nights up and down the country over the year, but this was the one I wanted to see most. 

When we arrived, the evening was warm and sunny. There was no queue outside the venue, just people sitting on the stone blocks at the perimeter of the square. We found an empty one and settled down to wait. It wasn't too busy. More people arrived, some craftily sitting on the steps outside the front door. Then, at 7 p.m., a security person came out of the bar entrance to tell us the door was open. Not the front door. The side door, the one shared with the bar. 

We formed a disorderly queue and waited to get in. The girl behind me complained to her pal about how long it was taking. Then she mentioned needing to pick up her co-codamol from the chemist at 8.30 the next day, and my ears pricked up. 

The friend replied, "Aye, you've no been weel for ages."

"Aye, uh know. See, yesterday, my throat wiz like broken glass, but that went away, and noo it's aw slimy." She coughed loudly. "Gawd, ah sound like I smoke sixty fags a day." She coughed again, thick and guttural. Almost chewy, you might say.

"You've no been right since you had that sick bug."

"Food poisoning," she corrected. 

I whispered to my wife, "Let's not sit anywhere near them."

The queue took ages to move. Once we entered the building, we could see why. There were two queues: ours and the one from the bar. The security were being highly diligent in their bag searches. One located a gentleman's hip flask, which was set aside. Another refused to let a girl in with her metal water bottle, its contents decanted in a clear pint tumbler before she could have it back. The message: no fluids in the performance space unless purchased from the venue or you're not getting in.

We didn't have bags, so we were waved through after the ticket barcodes were scanned. Inside, half of the seats were already taken. Most of the bar queue must have gotten in first. No worries. We found two seats near the middle and settled in. Smoke hung in the air as if someone had earlier forgotten to switch off the smoke machine. Not so thick that you couldn't see the stage, but enough to make the view hazy.

I had no idea when the show would start, but when my wife asked, I suggested 8 p.m. She was fizzing. "You're telling me it isn't going to start till 8 o'clock? Why did we need to be here at 6.30?"

"Unreserved seating. Look how busy it is already. You don't want to end up with a crap seat with a restricted view."

She pulled that face that told me she couldn't see past the guy in front.

"Do you want to swap seats?" I asked.

"No. I'm fine. So long as you can see."

It turned out the show started at 7.30.

Jay Lafferty did a great job getting us warmed up in her role as compere, getting to know the crowd, explaining the format of the night and setting down the house rules. 

The first act was Josie Long, fresh off the minibus from the South Side, where she now lives. Her voice was more croaky than usual, and she needed to refer to her notes occasionally, but she was still top-class, a mixture of passion and positivity and plenty of fun.

Next up was Sam Lake. I saw him support Ed Gamble, and he used a lot of the same material tonight. It killed even more this time. He ploughs the same catty tropes as other gay comedians, but his writing and delivery are sharp. It won't be long before he breaks through into the mainstream media.

After the break, local act Stephen Buchanan performed his set. I'd never seen him before. I felt he was the weakest act of the night, but only because the others were so good. His material was funny, but the others got bigger laughs. 

Headliner Larry Dean was immense. Oozing oddball charisma, his material shone. It didn't even feel like a set. He was just plucking funny out of the air. I do realise everything about it was scripted, even down to his posture and facial expressions, but at the time, the big laughs rolled through the audience. I'm really looking forward to catching him again later in the year. 

Jay rounded off the night with a story about the consequences of an inappropriate children's party gift and the subsequent parents' WhatsApp group chats. A hilarious tale in the telling, where the punchline wasn't the funniest bit.

We were all done by 10.30.

Having avoided the sixty-fags-a-day cough lady, I got my comeuppance when the bloke on my left spent half the night coughing into his shirt's right elbow. It should have been incinerated afterwards as a potential biohazard. I better not get ill before my holiday.

Ticket Price: £25 (plus fees) from TicketWeb.  

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).

Tenacious D, Spicy Meatball Tour, OVO Hydro, Glasgow. Thursday 9th May, 2024

This event was a prime example of a great show but a bad experience. 

Support act Dave Hill did his best to entertain. He rode onto the stage on a BMX-style bike, attempted (and failed) to pull several wheelies, threw around nunchucks badly, and then went into his schtick, over-punctuating his material with local references while shredding an electric guitar. Some of the crowd bought into his comedic stylings, chanting "Dave, Dave, Dave" (at his behest), but I couldn't see his appeal. The songs weren't funny, and his nodding while repeating "Thank you" after every supposed joke grated. I know he's supposed to be a loser - that is the character - but I felt it was a wasted opportunity. A better support act would have served us better.

Tenacious D did their thing: passionate rock music with comedic interludes. No problem there. They delivered to the max. I loved that they gave the lighting man AND the sound guy a 'solo' and that the drummer incorporated the beat of the crowd's chant of "Here we, here we, here we fucking go' into his. The recurring bit with the Pyro guy became more amusing as it went on, with the obvious payoff at the end.   

For me, it was the crowd that made the experience bad. I'll admit I was partly to blame. I ventured further forward than I should have. I knew my back was dodgy, but I hoped to get a clear view for taking photos and videos. All around, surrounded by Gen Zs, vaping was widespread, with more smoke rising from the mouths of the entitled youths than were being pumped from the stage. At least the smell wasn't too unpleasant. The lads with the mullets somehow managed to wheedle their way between me and the middle of the stage, their hairy domes obscuring my central view. We stood behind three shorter people, two girls and a guy. Then, the taller blonde's tattooed, stubble-headed boyfriend arrived with the drinks and tried to push in front of my wife. She is a concert veteran and wouldn't let him in, causing some tension as the prick failed to comprehend what the problem was. Her crossed arms acted as a constant barrier to his attempts to nuzzle behind his girlfriend. Not once did the girl consider moving in front of him.

Early on in the set, one lady with pink hair shrieked with the ferocity of someone falling from a cliff at the start of every song, demonstrating a level of hysteria previously only seen by The Beatles. It took a few glares from the surrounding crowd for her to realise her behaviour was unacceptable before she stopped. And she could stop, showing it was an affectation designed, much like her hair colour, to draw attention. 

The phone light beacons, raised whenever someone went away, pissed me off. You don't need another pint during the show. If you want a drinking session, go to the pub. You've paid to see a band. If your bladder can't handle it, don't drink so much.    

At the start of every song, a sea of phones rose from the throng like dandelions on a lawn. All three of the people in front of us joined in, their phones held way above their heads, blocking my view. Gen Z wasn't interested in shooting a whole song, though. Their attention spans only allowed them thirty seconds before they had to review the footage and forward it. It was so frustrating.

You might suggest it is disingenuous of me to complain when I, too, use my phone to take pictures and videos. However, I shoot from in front of my face, not obscuring anyone else's view. and I shoot the whole song. These guys didn't care who they were blocking. It was all about their needs, and to hell with everyone else. Their concert experience was different to mine. I'm sure they left happy. 

Next time the D comes to town, I'll go for the seats. Standing is not so much fun anymore. On the plus side, my back survived intact.  

Concert additional:

Apparently, Karen Gillan and (some of) Biffy Clyro were guests on the night. I never saw them, though. I only know this because Jack Black name-checked them during the gig.

Setlist

Overture (John King song) (by Andrew Gross and John King, from Tenacious D in The Pick of Destiny's opening credits)

Kickapoo

Low Hangin' Fruit

Rize of the Fenix

Wonderboy

Tribute

Video Games

The Metal

Sax-a-Boom

Baker Street (Gerry Rafferty song) (Kyle's 'Max-a-Boom' solo)

Roadie

Dude (I Totally Miss You)

Wicked Game (Chris Isaak cover)

Beelzeboss (The Final Showdown)

Double Team (with Black performing a snippet of "Turn" by Travis)

Encore:

Throw Down (Tour debut)

Master Exploder

The Spicy Meatball Song

Fuck Her Gently

Ticket Price: £55 (plus Facility Charge £1.70 & Service Charge £7.45 per ticket and £2 Handling Fee for the order) from Ticketmaster. 

Miles Jupp, "On I Bang" Tour 2024. King's Theatre, Glasgow. Wednesday 8th May, 2024.

Olivia Rodrigo played two nights at the Hydro this week, Tuesday and Wednesday. I liked her first album to a degree and thought her second one was very good. But when I saw the ticket prices, I baulked at paying that amount to see a young girl who sings about boyfriend break-ups. Sheesh, I wouldn't pay those prices to see Stevie Nicks, and she's had a massive career with a huge back catalogue to pull from. That didn't stop me from setting up an alert on Twickets in case any second-hand bargains came up.

Fortunately, the prices for every ticket that popped up were still extortionate, even for seats next to the roof, so I never went as far as clicking 'Buy'. Which was just as well because, subsequent to her tour being announced, I'd already booked myself up on both nights. What an expensive blunder that would have been.

'On I Bang' is a tale about how Miles discovered he had a brain tumour and the subsequent operation to remove it. As you might imagine from a raconteur as posh as Miles, the tale is not simply told. It includes aspects of his family life (five kids), his wife's propensity for clutter, and his relationship with his parents.

It is marvellously told using his precise command of language, weaving a deft narrative with sly satirical asides and observation comedy. He throws in callbacks and cracks at his choice of 'insert a local reference into script here' (for the record, Elaine C Smith gets a mention in this capacity), though I'm sure that laugh is scripted, too. 

Before the interval, he leaves us, most amusingly, with a cliffhanger: did he survive the operation? I bet you can guess the answer.   

This was superior storytelling, ripe with character, humour, and frequent belly laughs, beautifully performed. He did not receive a single heckle. I guess the pisshead brigade is not his demographic, and all the better for it. 

As I left the theatre, I noticed in the merch section that they were selling mugs with the tour image on them for £10. A label, written in pen, had been placed in front of them, simply saying, "Clutter." A lovely final callback for those of us who spotted it.  

Ticket Price: £28.53 (plus £3.95 Transaction Fee) from ATG.

The view from my seat, pre-show

Blurb:

Since Miles’ last tour finished at The London Palladium in 2017, he’s been in The Full Monty on Disney Plus, The Durrells and Why Didn’t They Ask Evans? on ITV, as well as a heap of episodes of Frankie Boyle’s New World Order and Have I Got News For You. He’s made an award-winning radio series and he’s published a novel. But for Covid, he would have played a lead at the RSC. Hey ho. Nevertheless he’s done a play in the West End and played the Emperor of Austria and Europe in a Ridley Scott film.

Yet one sunny day in the middle of all this, he suddenly suffered a brain seizure. This led to the discovery of a tumour the size of a cherry tomato, and a rather pressing need to undergo major neurosurgery. Obviously, one doesn’t wish to make a big deal of it, but the experience has left him with a story to tell and a few things that he’d like to share with the room. So that’s exactly what he’s doing in his new show On I Bang – a tale about surprise, fear, luck, love and qualified medical practitioners.