Year three of Stag and Dagger in Glasgow and the format is basically the same as before, a number of venues (no Classic Grand this year, though), some quite well-known acts although no obvious headliners, and quite a few “who they?” as well. The notion of darting between venues to catch the best of the best is somewhat unappetising today, as when I roll up at the ABC to collect the wristband (no queue chaos unlike past couple of years) it’s been raining solidly for the entire day, the streets are flooded and still it’s tipping it down.
First stop at around 6pm I try to get into the basement at Nice ‘n’ Sleazy but it is completely rammed; a vague feedback, distortion sound coming from the front, which I think must be She’s Hit – to be honest it does not sound worth the bother, and I can’t see anything, even in my heels. An executive decision is made and it’s through the rain to the Captain’s Rest, where I think French Wives‘ set has just ended. It’s been really busy but it’s all over, so there is a wait before The Scottish Enlightenment take the stage to a somewhat smaller crowd. Unassuming but with quite a tight, loping sound, they go through around five songs – very agreeable and some good tunes, the singer not smiling much but I think there is some dry wit beneath a slightly nervous performance.
Back at ABC1 I catch the end of Clinic, an act who I had previously seen a few years ago at Triptytch in the Tramway – I hadn’t really thought much of them then and that hasn’t changed. The venue is now quite full (though Sons and Daughters haven’t sold out this year) but despite a good PA system the songs sound a bit crap, the band trying to be experimental but instead sounding like a bad Magazine b-side… pedestrian, more the Wombats than Throbbing Gristle.
A pause, then a probably two-thirds full ABC1 sees probably the biggest gig to date by Admiral Fallow. I’d not seen them before but have enjoyed their album and session tracks; however they were a wee bit underwhelming. During the first song, from album Boots Met My Face, I thought ‘Nothing Ever Happens’ by Del Amitri – not a damning comparison but not exactly anything new. They played three new songs, I think, which sounded ok, and managed to get a reasonable crowd response to some of the other, better known stuff – for Betty the jury is out on this one.
As they finished I went downstairs to hear the last couple of tracks by Withered Hand, performing at ABC2 to quite a sizeable crowd – he’s in the middle of an anecdote about something, in his slightly Joe Pasquale-esque (is that a word?) voice. The couple of songs I heard are witty, self-deprecating and quite tuneful, a good pub gig in the middle of this merry go round of competing acts.
Next up is Warpaint, hotly tipped and drawing the biggest crowd of the night, the curious mainly I think. And they sound pretty good, all American, all female, guitar toting, some good vocals, but not too sure about the songs.
Going downstairs again to ABC2, James Yorkston is on stage alone, with a fairly sparse crowd, fighting to be heard above the booming coming from ABC1, just above his head. Cursing the noise and stating he will never play this venue again, he tries to slow his acoustic strums down to play along with the noise above, claiming he’s in a good mood nonetheless. I’m not too sure about specific songs, it was more the spectacle of one man against the world tonight. He’d have been better off bringing along some of his Athletes and might have stood a chance of being heard.
Up to T’Art School, I catch the last couple from Broken Records – they seem a bit lacklustre, not perhaps the best space for their expansive sound – anthemic in parts but not quite firing on all cylinders, some Arcade Fire-esque moments with the fiddle leading the sound.
After a break and a mass influx of photographers getting in front of the barrier, Sons and Daughters play their first hometown gig in probably quite a while. There’s new material on the way, evidenced by the first, quite electronic, percussive opening number, possibly a new direction? The crowd gets going, some stomping guitar licks and solid rhythm section, Adele belting it out, but I have to say that the last bus to Bettysville calls before, I presume, some of the old favourites – good to see them back though.