The 10th edition of Tenement Trail, Glasgow’s annual new music pilgrimage, proved once again why the event organizers are considered saints for the fledgling band.

For a decade now, they’ve been championing the unsung, the undiscovered, and the “soon-to-be-reckoned-with,” offering a crucial stage (or in this case, nine stages) for those who are often still deciding on a band name, never mind a PR strategy.

Fifty artists across nine venues—that’s not just a music festival; that’s a city-wide endurance test for your hearing and liver. And as ever, the crowd, fueled by pizza, Tennent’s Light and the promise of witnessing the next Fontaines D.C., was ready for anything.

Barrowland 2 felt like the epicenter of the mayhem. First up on the stage, YesNoMaybe?, a band name that reads like the internal monologue of a guy on a first date. But don’t be fooled by the playful moniker; these guys are tipped for great things. Their set, capped by a standout track, “God Isn’t Real”, was a masterclass in post-punk energy, tight enough to remind you why you keep coming back to this grime-slicked city for live music. With sharp riffs and a bassline that seemed to make the room vibrate in sympathy, it was clear they’ve graduated from the DIY scene into something much more dangerous.

Over at Van Winkle, Aim For Two delivered the kind of loud music that should come with a health warning. They played like their amps were responsible for keeping the universe from imploding. It was somewhere between stoner rock and a demolition derby, all cranked-up riffs and hollered choruses. “Arrows in the Sky,” their standout track, hit like a meteorite—a great fit for a festival that thrives on chaos.

By the time Dallas Love Field hit the stage at BAaD, it was clear Tenement Trail hadn’t lost its touch. With the atmospheric “Serpentine Road”, they brought a swagger that was somehow both effortless and razor-sharp. Not bad for a group who clearly spent more time rehearsing and honing their craft than coming up with a name that makes sense in Scottish weather.

rEDOLENT returned to Barrowland 2 to remind everyone that melody and noise are not mutually exclusive. The grimey dream-pop soundscapes of “Dinny Greet” drenched in reverb and layered vocals, had the crowd swaying along.

But let’s cut the chase—Curiosity Shop at The Winged Ox stole the entire festival (for us). Their sound, equal parts whimsical folk and experimental blues , stood out like a goth at a communion. “One for the Shirtpocket” hooked the audience like a tractor beam, and by the end, half the room was convinced they’d just witnessed something monumental. With so many finely composed tracks experimenting with a myriad of instruments from; bass, accordion, harmonium and banjo, each woven in to the tapestry of their ethereal soundscapes. This was the kind of band you stumble upon at a festival and smugly tell your friends, “I saw them back when…”

Kilgour, returning to Van Winkle, was a blend of blues, grunge, and existential crises, all delivered with a smirk and the type of self-deprecation that makes Scots so endearing. Their track “Gutter Bug” was both cathartic and destructive, like Nirvana with a hangover.

Meanwhile, Kuleeangee at Barrowland 2 brought an infectious party vibe, the kind of band you dance to before realizing you have no idea how long you’ve been on your feet. They’re yet to release music, but tracks like “Is it Alright?” lit the room up, a clear signal they’re about to crash the scene with something big.

Over at BAaD, The Era played like they were headlining a much bigger venue. With a sound that mixes alt-rock with indie grandeur and the joy of what we have lovingly termed ‘industrial harp’ their performance of “Black Leather Lover” felt like a prophecy—they’re on the cusp of greatness, and if they can keep up this momentum, we’ll all be seeing them on much bigger stages soon.

In the midst of all the chaos at Barrowland 2, Dutch Wine swaggered onto the stage, bringing their own brand of jangly indie shoegaze rock that felt like it was dipped in summer nostalgia. Their song “If I Fall Through the Ceiling” shimmered through the room like sunlight cutting through a cloudy Glasgow afternoon. But the real show-stealer? Their guitarist, who, by all accounts, might have been the hardest working man at the entire festival. Between shredding solos, sprinting around the stage like he was late for a train, and somehow keeping the whole set tight, it was like watching a man possessed by the spirit of every rock ‘n’ roll legend that came before him. If ever there was a trophy for pure, unfiltered effort, Dutch Wine’s guitarist deserved it, probably with a side of ibuprofen.

Meanwhile, at St. Luke’s, Parliamo turned the church-like venue into a raucous confessional. Their eclectic mix of punk and Britpop had everyone moving, and their standout track “Sweet” was a kind of joyous anthem, filled with enough swagger to make even the most stoic in the crowd crack a smile. Parliamo is one of those bands that feels as though they’re about to become synonymous with Glasgow’s ever-evolving music scene.

Back at The Winged Ox, Fright Years delivered a slow-burn set that built up to “Every Weekend,” a song that felt like a 90s grunge outfit wandering through a deserted cityscape. Their melancholic indie rock had the crowd hypnotized, offering a nice contrast to the louder acts around them.

And speaking of standout acts, Lacuna, also at The Winged Ox, put on a powerhouse performance. It’s fantastic to see more female-fronted groups like this emerging, and with tracks like “Sinking Woman”, they made it clear they’re here to challenge the scene’s male-heavy stereotype either their soaring harmonies and quaint Au Revior Simone vibe.

At BAaD, Black Fondu provided a groove-laden set that oozed cool. Their glitchy, industrial power punk track “Another Domestic” was a perfect choice for a room that was quickly filling up with curious onlookers, drawn in by this one man powerhouse wailing into the mic.

Then came the grand finale—Vlure. Before they even took the stage, BAaD was at max capacity, a sweaty mass of bodies ready to be leveled. By the time Psweatpants joined them for the first few songs, the energy in the room was bordering on euphoric. “Shattered Faith” was the track that sent the room into overdrive, a wall of sound that seemed capable of leveling buildings. “Show Me How To Live” had the sizeable crowd clambering onto friends shoulders as the band took to the crowd. The only thing that kept the room from exploding was the fact that Vlure’s set had to, eventually, end.

As the final notes faded, the importance of Tenement Trail in Glasgow’s cultural bloodstream couldn’t have been clearer. It’s a festival for the fringe, the emerging, and the brave—those who’ll be headlining someday and those who’ll remain cult favourites.

As the final note reverberated through the room, it was hard not to feel a sense of awe at what Tenement Trail has built over the past decade. This festival is a vital part of Glasgow’s musical DNA, a place where new bands cut their teeth, old favorites remind us why we fell in love with them, and every moment feels like you’re on the verge of discovering the next big thing.

In the end, Tenement Trail isn’t just a festival—it’s a testament to the fact that new music is still worth the search, the sweat, and, in Glasgow’s case, the rain-soaked journey from one gig to the next. In a world where live music feels increasingly commodified, Tenement Trail stands out as a reminder that the future of music is being forged in these grimy venues, one reckless, beautiful song at a time.

Article: Angela Canavan.