This was about far more than just music. This was about a defiant human being who flat-out refuses to lie down and just take it.

The first of two sold-out shows sees Cottiers rammed to the actual rafters. People had travelled from as far as San Francisco, New York and Germany to be here. Some, like me, had come from just around the corner — all of us drawn to this singular New Yorker who seems to have played or recorded with everyone from Lucinda Williams and Springsteen to Billie Joe Armstrong, Dinosaur Jr, Alison Mosshart, Bleachers, Rancid… the list goes on. An artist whose journey began in punk and somehow meandered its way into earning the title of the NYC Troubadour — which feels entirely fitting as he recounts tales of his early career, kicking around with his crew, being dropped off at the Bowery by his mother to go play music. Stories of CBGB-era New York — dangerous and therefore seductive, like moths to a flame — and sweeter tales of an America that found itself strangely unified in the wake of the Twin Towers.

But make no mistake, tonight is also very much about the music — and there’s a vast back catalogue to pull from. Proceedings open with Almost Grown and Black Haired Girl, and right there, euphoria fills the room. I unexpectedly start to well up as the reality of what I’m part of takes hold. Reading about someone online and then standing in the room with them are two starkly different things, and I wasn’t prepared for that feeling. It quickly becomes clear this is a full-on celebration of PMA. We’re treated to a set of around twenty tracks, each one carrying a story. The most touching moments for me were without doubt Room 13, Oh Sheena, Turn Up the Mains, Shane and Broken Radio. The intro to Atheist made me laugh…it made the whole room laugh — “You know you’re in trouble when an atheist starts to pray.”

At a time when the whole world feels like it’s spinning off its axis, tonight is immersive, inclusive and ultimately life-affirming. There’s a real recognition of the quirks and nuances of human connection  and interaction — and a genuinely hilarious story about the origins of the term ‘Moshing,’ a shared language blown apart by a misunderstanding of Jamaican patois.

Tonight was a celebration and an affirmation that today is not the end of the world. As the sign said — tomorrow is another day.

Jesse Malin is more than blood and bone. Jesse Malin is spirit and soul — and wherever in the world he may be, Jesse Malin is Glasgow as fuck.

Words: Nick Tamer | Images: Chris Hogge