Unless you`ve been living in a coconut hide for the last few years, you`ll be well aware of just how quickly an act can emerge from the Clap n Parrot circuit and be propelled into the utmost echelons of stardom. From Enter Shikari`s math Metal Gabba outselling many a pop act live (having released virtually nothing to date) to cod-falsetto twerp Mika instantly topping the charts, times are-a-moving. Fast. Tonight the chant is already in full shebang (you know the one), suggesting someone ought to get these four ruffians a fire extinguisher pronto! The View have bagged a number one LP and are now embarking on a sold out tour of Britain. It`s a poignant carnival of nostalgia in Glasgow tonight; not bad for a band who merely fourteen months ago were covering Squeeze to buy soapbar. And judging by the wage-rape ticket prices outside, things aren`t about to falter for the Dryburgh outfit.
First up though The Automatic are met with a rather bony reception, mainly due to the fact they were billed as the headliners, (Penne later tells us they openly offered The View the opportunity to top the bill). So when the slightly baffled crowd do realise (by way of a thundering `Raoul`) it seems the band are more than happy to make way for the regional heroes. Penne is still the affable screamo pixie, entangled in his mic chord on a Haribo induced e-number overload. Vocalist Rob Hawkins on the other hand is the John Hughes movie extra (gone metal). When The Automatic come good (as on set closer `Recover`) they`re almost untouchable at working the crowd. But you get the sense they`re stuck in a slight predicament these days. They`ve extensively maintained they`re not a one-trick pony, but their evident love for harder acts such as Mastodon is unlikely to go down well with the `Monster`-loving keg heads who seem to nod off through most of their edgier set. Wisely though they`ve peppered the singles throughout, so for every At The Drive-In gone synth pop moment there`s a top ten smash to merrily retrieve mass appeal. Where The Automatic will go from here is anyone`s guess, but you get the sense next time around there may be a little more breaking free than riot at GMtv.
Being granted the headline slot, The View are in such an erm..high spirited mood tonight that Frontman Kyle Falconer greets the Glasgow crowd with what Phys Ed teachers may refer to as a hobo-handstand. When he gradually roly-poly`s to his feet, the crowd respond to their shambolic entrance with a roar that could suggest he may have a chance at winning Scotland an Olympics Gymnast medal.
`Ah, so you`re the Weegies, then!` muses a valiant Kyle as the swaying mass repairs following a riotous run through `Coming Down`. `Well this ones for `a ye Dundee boys` he proclaims, launching into the jamboree-jig splendour of `The Don`. Like a raw Coral thumping Xylophones round Lee Mavers` crib, it`s a sincere highlight. Pig Latin junk anthem `Wasted Little DJ`s` follows, each crowd member yelping out their own slightly off-kilter chorus of muddled vocab. Limbs fly, this writer gets elbowed in the eye, and tumblers of flat Super T are sent rocketing Via Air-mail. Even with `Hats Off…` having charted merely a week ago, it seems this crowd have known these songs for aeons, and for many a devout Dundonian, they probably have. `Same Jeans“stop-gap breakdown sees Falconer randomly quoting the infamous Balcony glassing scene in Trainspotting, doing his hardest to emulate `tachioed nutcase Begbie whilst actually sounding two decades his junior. There`s no sign of Falconer`s often-subdued persona tonight, he`s as self-assured and brash as any band topping the charts would be (too much Tizer, lads?). `Grans For Tea` sees Kieran take the lead, pummelling his fretboard and thwaking his boots against the monitors whilst lamenting urban isolation via a `mile long queue in the chipp-y`; he needn`t worry though, he shouldn`t have to queue for a slime supper any time soon. A celebration then, with lashings of booze, mirth, and life affirming songs. Just the way The View always intended.
