Tonight, Glasgow is a washout. We’ve rushed in out of the rain to see Jack Townes – who, rubbish name aside, are tipped to be one of the bigger Scottish bands of this year. The audience, soaked with the rain outside huddle around the small stage downstairs in the Captain’s Rest. The fringes of Kurt Vile’s entourage – including supermodel Abby Lee Kershaw, who I was thrilled to tipsily spot – leave for Sleazy’s, and we’re left with a hardcore of fans – some of whom have travelled across the city to see the band.
There’s a lengthy wait and a soundcheck, as Jack Townes – signed to Columbia Records – prep themselves for one of their most significant shows as part of the Stag and Dagger festival. Having toured already with label-mates The View, they’re a band familiar with larger stages – and tonight they work the crowd with a confidence which belies their years.
On first thoughts, the singer, Jack, looks pretty familiar. It’s only later that I realise he’s an actor, which must go some way to explaining his presence onstage. The band behind him – Connaire McCann, Andy O’Neill and Johnny Madden – are all black clothing and hundred yard stares, swigging beer like they only got to drink it a couple of months ago. They seem eager to get started, but tight and focussed. Throughout the night, they keep up a seamless rhythm, showing more interest and vigour than bands 10 years older.
The songs? The first, ‘To A Politician’, crashes in like a great lost Buzzcocks track – splicing the upbeat punk of Manchester’s finest with Glasgow grit and charm. ‘Juvenile Smile’ – the clear single which owes no small debt to ‘Let’s Stick Together’ by Roxy Music – ripples over the crowd and sets up in the confidence that what we’re seeing is the promising band we signed up for when we bought the tickets.
In-between, the crowd is waxing and waning – with occasional drunken interjections from those just curious to see what all the fun is about. A couple of them are off their heads, seeing fit to boo the pauses in between songs. The whiskey-addled are ejected, or shushed at least. But there’s enough gut and snarl in ‘Petrol Bouquet’ to act as a riposte to the noisy few anyway. With a sneer, they launch into an outright attack on those who refuse to listen. The follow-up,’ Who Talks Like That?’ matches infectious guitar-lines with frantic, frenetic vocals – all about teenage frustration, fittingly enough.
The curveball cover of ‘Fuck You’ by Cee Lo Green is the surprise which reinvigorates the set. Mixing their blasé punk sass with all that other good stuff, they rework a modern soul hit into poppy study of teenage angst. A definite crowd-pleaser, the more ‘refreshed’ crowd members enjoy this in particular – knowing the words, dancing, etc. It’s heartening to see – too often the Captain’s Rest is home to cool static indie bands that can’t get a rise from the crowd.
Last song,‘Hey Jackie’ nods to chuggalong 1950s rock’n’roll, diners, petticoats, dreamboats and stylish Chuck Berry guitars. This is sweet rockabilly – instead of the over-worked Cramps references of their peers, they appear to have went all out on the 50s thing and thrown themselves into a wide angle revival sound. The frontman even wades into the crowd for the last round of guitar solos – but it’s charming, not silly. They walk off to wild cheers and abandon the encore-expectant audience. It’s short, sharp and speaks of finer things to come.
They’ve got the swagger, the record deal and they’ve certainly got the tunes. They’ll probably get as big as they’re tipped to be and you know what? They deserve it.