Hint: if you are a fan of Nightmare Of You’s recorded output, don’t go and see them live. Really, DON’T.
With less charisma and stage presence than four of those battery-powered sunflowers with shades on that everyone had in the nineties, Nightmare Of You butcher a huge chunk of their back catalogue like some sort of grubby pub rock covers band.
Perhaps with enough pre-gig ‘fuel’ it would be more tolerable, but the sober amongst the King Tut’s crowd can’t help but wince. It’s like unwrapping that big, beautifully decorated box under the Christmas Tree and finding inside it a lump of coal.
There’s always that chance it was just a bad show for the New Yorkers – but that would make King Tut’s extremely unlucky. Their January 2007 show was much the same.
Thank goodness then, for a pretty amazing support band.
Jukebox The Ghost have such an infectious sense of fun that even hearing Nightmare Of You mutilate ‘My Name Is Trouble’ afterwards can’t wipe the smiles from our faces.
An American trio whose most obvious reference point is Ben Folds Five at their most radio-friendly, this is JTG’s first trip to Scotland and if we had our way, they’d never have been allowed to leave.
They are a bit of a guilty pleasure, though. ‘Real’ music fans aren’t supposed to like happy bands, so there’ll be indie snobs having panic attacks at the mere thought of this lot.
Trying to resist the joy of JTG’s pretty major chords, tambourines and catchy choruses, though, is like trying to lick your elbow. IT JUST DOESN’T WORK. They’re like musical ice cream and jelly – and not the cheap, nasty kind. They’re the kind with real vanilla pods, no dodgy bits of dead animals and organic sugar sprinkles in every colour of the rainbow on top.
A sprightly three-part epic about God, aliens and the apocalypse takes up half of their set – a magical, mythical journey that doesn’t get tiresome for so much as a second.
The biggest triumphs of their half hour show, though, are the relatively brief Victoria (which sparks an awkward conversation between pianist/vocalist Ben Thornewill and a sarcastic Glaswegian about English people – the bearded singer wisely opts to just smile and nod) and the completely irresistible euphoria of set closer Good Day.