It should really come as no surprise that in a world of beautiful contradictions, a railway arch nestled beneath the rumbling train tracks of Glasgow’s Central Station becomes the unlikely cathedral for music so luminous, so joy-emitting, it transforms everything it touches. Midland Street is hardly picturesque—it’s all Dickensian grime, water weeping from ceilings, magnificent decay. So when the band appears, gliding towards the venue in velvet jackets and 70s-esque flares like peacocks who’ve stumbled through a time portal, the juxtaposition is nothing short of startling… and absolutely welcome.

These resplendent dandies from Brighton don’t just bring music—they bring transformation. A fresh, joyful, dare I say ecstatic vibe that illuminates this dark corner of town.

The intro over the PA teases what’s to come, but nothing fully prepares you for the explosion that follows. Irresistible and irrepressible, they radiate a positivity that initially seems almost frivolous—until you realise it’s deadly serious, meticulously crafted, deeply intentional. Take a moment to truly observe: the stage set, the aesthetic precision, the songs, the theatrical stagecraft—all of it so exquisitely orchestrated it borders on the miraculous. This is no happy accident or fortunate fluke. This is artistry disguised as pure, unadulterated fun.

The truly remarkable thing is that the band have only recently released their debut album, yet have already graced stages supporting Paul Weller and Kid Creole and the Coconuts on tour. They are unmistakably, undeniably on a meteoric ascent, and we are extraordinarily fortunate to witness them at this precise moment—like catching lightning in a bottle.

Barbara exist in a gloriously indefinable space—musically familiar in a quintessentially-English-meets-Southern-California-sunshine kind of way. Imagine cruising in a red Barchetta down Pacific Coast Highway, bathed in liquid-gold sunlight, vitamin D flooding your system, endorphins firing on all cylinders. Some draw comparisons to ELO’s symphonic grandeur, others to 10cc’s playful sophistication, but there are elements far more elusive and intoxicating—perhaps Mika’s theatrical exuberance colliding with Frankie Valli’s emotional precision, filtered through a kaleidoscope of pure pop alchemy. Yet in the live context they hit harder, sharper, more urgently than any comparison suggests, delivering immaculately formed pop that transcends eras and classification.

The banter and camaraderie between songs are an absolute joy to witness and absorb. They are refreshingly inclusive, generous, visibly delighting in the crowd as much as the crowd delights in them. A genuine exchange of energy and affection. Jelly dancing is a thing. Jelly dancing will become the thing.

Let Barbara’s star shine bright and long.

Life is too short to be dull… become a Barbarette.

Velvet jacket optional.

Abandoned joy compulsory.

Words: Nick Tamer

Images: Chris Hogge