Sport and music don’t always mix, so this gig was a slightly off-kilter concoction of returning (after many years) Antipodean indie legends The Chills, plus an unannounced and completely ignored set (by the audience, except for Betty of course, who was shaking her tassels, and that’s not a criminal offence, yet, readers) by the mighty Withered Hand, and an acoustic opening act who was also fine (see link below) and… er… a lot of people with medals round their necks, c”””ting athletes, don’t you just hate them, spoiled BM’s evening tonight, although there was that NZ rugby player later on…
The Chills were the band on the ticket and they arrived on stage around 9.30pm, an intense combo with multi-layered guitars, a band with a lengthy history, lineup tonight included several long term members (and songwriter Martin Phillipps as the constant). Their best numbers transcend space between pure pop and post-punk, everyone needs to here ‘Pink Frost’, ‘Heavenly Pop Hit’ (the blatant irony) and ‘I Love My Leather Jacket’, keyboards chugging out a fair racket, and it’s good.
Given that this review is after a long day and rather late BM would like to give respect to another site, as BM thinks they have done a good job on this event, capturing the contrast between music and sport referred to above.
Betty would have to confess that after the nine songs they played, and with several people who had probably come from quite a distance away, got a bit carried away and started the “one more tune” chant common to youngsters and retired burlesque performers the word over, and we were shouted down. In fact BM was eyeballed by a braindead future STV presenter (claws out missus, BM will have you in the Specific Quay toilets): “There will be plenty more tunes later, Sir” – WTF, firstly did she not clock that BM is 6 ft 6 inches in her heels with a sizeable rack and certainly not a “Sir” but also the “tunes” referred to were courtesy of Pam Hogg, see below.
And what of Withered Hand – an absolute travesty, which may put him off playing Glasgow for years to come but BM thinks that this was a right royal fuckup and mismatch.
With the current balls on the floor band (some smirking at Betty, the only person in the audience leaning on the barrier, rest about 20m away, WTF were they doing, editing their fucking athletes pictures most likely, clearly not music lovers and the first in line for death when the revolution comes) – WH has some great tunes and attitude, just not in Old Fruit on this occasion.
BM can’t even bring herself to go through the WH set, just really embarrassed that Glasgow did not turn up, or do anything really.
When BM left the building Pam Hogg was DJ-ing, nice late 70s tunes but come on, just the latest travesty in the Old Fruit programming disaster tonight – what were you thinking guys, 10 mins more of Pam means 10 less of the Chills (who’ve only come from NZ after all).
Time for another lie-down, it’s hard in the 2014 pop war trenches, kids – take from an old timer about to hang up her, oh never mind…