What makes the perfect gig? Depends what you look for in a night out, but how about: a band with a positive attitude, instrumental skill, adaptabilty, willingness to please… alongside songwriting and musicianship as well as interaction, entertainment.
The headliner has all this, but more of that later. As we reach the venue – one of several the sainted Sounds of the Suburbs team use, tucked away in a sidestreet in the west of Glasgow – we find Scott MacDonald, planning his setlist. A short chat later and we have largely chosen it for him – mainly drawn from debut album A New Heart, though there are great moments to come from the more recent Where Travellers Go. Five minutes later, he’s opening with ‘Laydown’, a great slice of Scottish folk, but certainly folk with a small ‘f’. MacDonald’s knack is for a simple tune well sung. When he’s on form – and on ‘Caravan’ and ‘Eagle Bay’ he certainly is – he’s up there with Dougie MacLean and King Creosote as a great Scottish songwriter.
While not exclusively tailoring a setlist to us, Martin Stephenson is, among everything else mentioned, an adaptable performer. Taking requests, it is, like MacDonalds’s set earlier, a ‘best of’ collection. So the shouts are met, largely, by instant renditions, of a kick-ass hoedown of ‘Running Water’, and a reggae-tinged, extended ‘Boat To Bolivia’. And all this delivered thanks to a rare outing for backing band The Daintees, including ‘stalwart’ percussionist Finn McArdle playing a curious electric bongo which replicates a full kit.
The Woodend is an unusual venue – a bowling club, so we’re sat at tables in what’s more like a canteen than a bar. But this adds to the intimacy – and gives us pole position for requests, the only punter closer to the band being a chap with a son of around primary school age. Although perhaps not getting every wisecrack, or indeed quite following ‘Coleen’s tale of lesbian love, the kid is is agog at the music which for the uninitiated, could be described as folk-pop, with blues and rockabilly in there too. And in that latter genre, the band rock out (yes!) just like they did in their heyday.
Given all that, and Gary Dunn’s jazz bass, it comes as a surprise to hear quite how in thrall the leader is to the days of punk, as he intersperses tunes with references to Punishment of Luxury and the Ramones and drops verses from ‘Submission’ and ‘Blank Generation’ into the lyrics of the Thatcher-baiting ‘Left Us To Burn’. But music aside it’s these surprises that make the set – that and the banter with the audience. In a less friendly setting it could backfire, but no matter the venue Stephenson takes great delight in engaging the audience… I say “engaging” – tonight he’s among friends, that is clear, so he can amuse himself (and us) by picking out lookalikes of James Taylor and Clodah Rogers, baiting the barstaff for ringing the till during the quiet bits in ‘Rain’, and having a go at absent (ahem) friends – Red Wedge, Johnny Marr’s son (cue guitarist Anthony Dunn breaking into ‘This Charming Man’) and chucking in anecdotes of time spent with the Bunnymen and Billy Bragg.
The lengthy set never drags, and even when the band get 10 minutes at the bar, the singer fills the gap solo – well, there’s a bizarre duet with a Donald Duck impressionist and an astonishing moothie player who all but swallows his instrument.
A full second set is like the first – full of Xmas joy and warming a snowy night in Glasgow. And, it again heavily on Stephenson’s considerable back catalogue and leans towards the early, chart-bothering material. Which as you can imagine goes down well with the audience. More than anything else, it’s nice to hear a band who aren’t afraid of the term ‘crowd-pleasing’.