In 1996, an unlikely pair from Falkirk released an album of songs about life, the absence of love and scraping by.
Electric Frog has become a Glasgow staple, bringing an eclectic mix of music and artists to the newly refurb’d SWG3
This is the tenth album from Dundonian indie-rocksters Spare Snare, a band 21 years young
The first time I saw them, they were stalking across a blustery field near Oban, backstage at Dunstaffnage festival
Ah, Scunner! A more crazy conundrum of collective consciousness has never darkened the cabariot streets of this humdrum city.
This reviewer feels slightly sad and nostalgic sitting listening to the treat of Redbeard’s album spilling digitally from the laptop.
As Andy Cairns and his gang troop onto the stage, resplendent in kilts (“Happy f**kin’ St Andrew’s Day!”), it’s a strange wash of nostalgia and tremulous excitement which mingles with the sweat and beer.
This is visceral, almost a lament, the two-piece creating layers of blood-rich warmth in the duelling vocals
This is quite harmless nineties Euro-rock, and as such becomes palatable background music.
Two tracks from Glasgow’s Mummy Short Arms, the oddly monikered gang of surrealists.