Glasvegas
Few bands command such presence as headliners of The NME Shockwaves Tour, Glasvegas. Clad in black and lead singer James Allan in a villainous cape and shades, they remain impossible to ignore. But when the amps are turned up to 11, slipping away to the bar hardly constitutes an escape. Their emotionally intense set garners a formidable wall of noise from their opener 'Geraldine' and remains throughout. Such a powerful opening means that the crowd have little option but to pay attention, whether they like it or not. The lyrics, and even a simple greeting like ‘Sheffield, I love you’, seem indecipherable to anyone other than a Glasgae resident yet a crushing rendition of 'It’s My Own Cheating Heart That Makes Me Cry' still prompts a heartfelt singing back from the masses up front. With their performance gaining momentum each song carries on from where its predecessor left off, letting you briefly recover then drawing you in ever closer. In particular, you can almost feel the chundering bass lines ricocheting off your chest during a soaring rendition of 'Fuck You, It‘s Over'.
Towards the mid-point of their set it becomes evident that, without disputing the Scottish four-piece’s performance, the gig itself demands a more exciting headliner. Basking in My Bloody Valentine‘s trademark use of effects pedals and feedback drenched discord, simply standing in the vicinity becomes tiring. Perhaps the band themselves realise the error of their ways and begin to tone it down. Those that do remain are treated to an endearing rendition of 'Flowers and Football Tops', topped with a stirring shock and awe white lights finale. 'Ice Cream Van' provides a respite and becomes an indulgence in itself, smothered with Allan’s drifting, echoing vocals.
'Go Square Go' breaths some life into what was becoming a monotone from Allan’s vocals and the crowd responds with a hooligan style chanting of the expletive laden chorus during the interlude. After a short break Allan dutifully returns accompanied solely by his brother Rab for a stripped down rendition of 'S.A.D.Light'. Finally Allan removes the shades and gives his adoring moshpit a cold yet strangely admiring stare. The poignantly anthemic 'Daddy’s Gone' becomes their thunderous ode to parental abandonment and even if few in the crowd have direct experience there remains one final fervent shouting back. With lyrics of domestic violence and sleeping around, social dysfunction never sounded so good, or indeed loud.