The search for that hidden gem of a European festival continues. By the beach on the beautiful east coast of Italy, in the town of Roseto just south of Rome, this festival certainly has potential.
But Soundlabs is more big gig than festival, more Fiat than Ferrari. No doubt organised with all the right intentions but obviously little thought about the average festival go-er: sets are too long; bands too few; cost too high and peripheral entertainment non-existent. It’s not a surprise that the local police almost outnumber the punters.
It’s a shame really because the line up on the final night was classic festival fare as Jose Gonzales headlined a night with Italian rock giants Zu, all beards five-foot saxophones and noise, followed by shouty female vocals of Uzeda and the quite bewilderingly captivating Wildbirds And Peacedrums from Sweden.
On the opening night, The Wave Pictures represent England like a clutch of Carry On films. Entertaining, on occasion mightily amusing, but each installment just a little bit too similar, and often bordering on the mediocre.
The real reason I am here though is for Glasvegas, and there was the additional pleasant surprise of meeting ‘Geraldine’ – who really was an angel, and still on James Allen’s shoulder when he needs her.
Soundchecking on a 34 degree day wasn’t the weather for black but it was still the day for Caroline to shriek, at the bewilderment of the Italian techs, “there’s a big beastie on ma drum”.
Later that night, and post-fumigation of the stage area, the band blasted through tracks from their first album. Although a much spascer crowd than they will see as they support Kings of Leon in America later this month, the performance was filled with the passion and authenticity of every Glasvegas show, which thankfully made my conversation about ‘soul’ with James; one white Weegie to another, less incongruous.
Unlike many Scottish bands Glasvegas don’t seek, or need the validation of peers or press and this has allowed them to find a massive conduit through a major label for their music. This proves that with a less parochial view more Scottish bands could have their cake and eat it. The thought of label or anyone else interfering with the direction of Glasvegas is laughable. Well, apart from the occasional big beastie on the rim of a snare.