Sunday (1994) comes with its own loyal following and distinctive aesthetic. The band takes the stage to an audio clip from Carrie and the iconic Twin Peaks intro — a perfect prelude. Combined with their outfits, the flowy silk of Paige Turner’s gown, and the haunting blue lights, the tone for the evening is set from the very start.
It all mirrors the ethereal, haunting vibe of their music. Paige’s mellifluous voice floats through the low-lit atmosphere of Òran Mór. It makes perfect sense that they would play in this venue — with its gothic, castle-like exterior, it feels like stepping into a den of vampires led by the band’s enigmatic frontwoman.
The setlist offered a balanced mix of songs from their debut record and their latest EP, Devotion, which lends its name to the current tour. Highlights included fan favourites such as Doomsday, Rain, and Still Blue.
Sunday (1994) already boasts a dedicated fan base — some attendees even dressed in similar flowing gowns, a testament to the excitement that builds when preparing to see a beloved band live. Scottish fans were treated to two shows: this evening at Òran Mór, following a night at The Mash House in Edinburgh — perhaps an even more fitting location for their dark, cinematic sound.
Sunday (1994) is an up-and-coming band you don’t want to miss. Their loyal following stems from the quality and consistency of their music, which has earned them growing industry praise and respect. It’s one of those rare moments when you can sense the bright future of a band already beginning to unfold.
It’s Halloween, and the crypt of the Hug and Pint serves as the perfect environment for secrecy and subterranean sonic beauty.
Any Slime City gig is a joy to behold, and tonight Glasgow’s own irreverent electro-nerd punks open proceedings with a surprise—and maybe not-so-secret—‘let’s try out our new material’ show. Their ability to transform left-field observations of the world and the absurdity of human existence into darkly humorous songs is remarkable, refreshing, and necessary. Yet beneath the wit lies something serious and thought-provoking—something that refuses to let you off easy.
Hard-hitting and melodically complex, the new tracks land with precision and purpose to rapturous reception. Trigger the Dads,Millennial Pause,Never Stop Giving Up—these are perfect Slime City: sharp, cynical, vital—and they sit seamlessly alongside old favourites like You and Everybody You Love Will One Day Die. The song titles alone make you smile before making you realise they might actually be right. Existential Armageddon on an individual level, delivered with a knowing wink and a middle finger raised.
A stunning performance for people who think too much and feel even more. Any band that creates a song called Lord, Make Me Chaste, But Not Yet deserves a Grammy at the very least—or, at minimum, your undivided attention.
Slime City’s new album National Record of Achievement drops 21 November.
29 November – Glasgow Art School. Album launch. Mark your calendars.
22 November – The Lexington, London.
After what seems like a lifetime, Desperate Journalist return to Glasgow to a hugely thankful and expectant crowd, who are rewarded with a stunning set of songs and a truly remarkable performance. The music sweeps over you like a continuous wave of emotion—an engulfing sonic landscape paired with lyrics and vocals that attack your deepest heartstrings with clarity and beauty. Emotions tangle and unravel in real time.
Vocalist Jo Bevan possesses a dazzling voice that sits somewhere between Björk, Jehnny Beth, and Sinéad O’Connor—a unique and devastating instrument. Her delivery is at times confrontational, words spat out as if expelling demons that have built up inside, teetering on the edge of a scream before pulling back with gut-wrenching restraint. It’s brutal and beautiful in equal measure.
While influences aren’t immediately obvious, there’s something familiar in the feeling—echoes of The Smiths, Talk Talk; that post-punk melancholy reimagined for our current moment. This is atmospheric, turbulent defiance. A disruption soundscape. Emotionally intense and deeply personal thoughts and feelings laid bare. A cathartic exorcism of life itself—tragic romance transformed into dynamic energy, despair meeting hope head-on.
What strikes you most is the conviction. Direct, breathless. Emotional drama that never feels performative because it’s so clearly real. Hope thwarted and dashed in an emotional storm, yet somehow still present. So much self-searching. So much reckoning. There’s a Morrissey-esque quality to the vocal delivery—those devastating throwaway comments turned into lyrics that cut deep and stay with you long after the final note fades.
This is deeply personal music for the masses—last breaths of defiance sung loud enough for everyone to hear. Such beautiful music in the most unlikely place.
If you missed this show, you missed something special. But there’s always next time—and with bands this good, there should always be a next time.
After five years off the road—and a name change that signaled both rebirth and resilience—HARD LIFE (formerly Easy Life) made their long-awaited return to Glasgow’sSWG3 on Tuesday night. The Leicester collective walked onstage to the sound of bagpipes, a perfectly tongue-in-cheek nod to their Scottish audience, and from that moment on, the room pulsed with anticipation.
Their set was an energetic fusion of hip-hop, soul, indie pop, and jazz—genres the band has always blended with enviable ease. HARD LIFE wasted no time reclaiming their place as one of the UK’s most compelling live acts, running through crowd-favorite cuts like “SKELETONS,” “PEANUT BUTTER,” “PETTY CRIME,” and “BEESWAX” with renewed swagger. Each track hit with the same offbeat charm and melodic warmth that defined their earlier sound, but there was a sharper edge this time—a confidence born from survival.
Halfway through the night, the band leaned into local spirit with a raucous, affectionate cover of The Proclaimers’ “I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles),” a moment that sent the crowd into full voice and sealed the connection between band and audience.
HARD LIFE’s stage presence remains effortlessly cool—easygoing but magnetic. There’s a sense of good-natured defiance in the air; a band that’s been through it, standing taller than ever. Judging by the grins and singalongs echoing through SWG3, Glasgow was more than happy to welcome them back.
Sports Team are rowdy right off the bat. They shake, scream, kick, and spit beer that lands squarely on this photographer’s glasses. The first three songs — The Game, Bang Bang Bang, and Happy — already set the mood for an energetic night.
Their music is a unique blend of indie and folk rock, driven by sarcastic, insightful lyrics and a distinctive identity. It electrifies the crowd and sets it in motion — and Thursday night at the Art School in Glasgow was no different, with moshing and jumping encouraged by charismatic frontman Alex Rice.
These live shows perfectly capture the bold sound of their latest LP, Boys These Days — a somewhat nostalgic hymn to what it was like being young back then versus what it feels like now. This night in Glasgow follows their set at the iconic Barrowland Ballroom earlier this year, when they opened for the legendary Supergrass — yet it’s not hard to imagine them headlining that stage in the near future.
All things considered, this six-piece from London reaffirms its place as one of the most exciting live acts around — a band that continues to grow, evolve, and prove that chaos can, in the right hands, sound like pure joy.
Let’s be clear: life is not an easy gig, and despite what some may believe, there might not be an encore. So doing what you can, when you can, and for the greater good is more important today than it has been for quite some time.
Gogol Bordello present such a potent feeling of positivity in a music genre that is as familiar as it is alien. The fusion of punk and cross-cultural Gypsy themes—presented in an exploding piñata of riot and colour—is as welcome as summer after winter: a necessary antidote to darker times.
A multi-national troupe with a New York-centric heart, they create an irresistible, unrelenting tide of their unique left-field aesthetic. Similar in spirit—both visually and musically—to the incredible yet sadly self-imploding French Gypsy jazz collective of the late ’80s and early ’90s, Les Négresses Vertes, Gogol Bordello appear as a seven-piece band of vibrant colour and surging electrical charge that’s hard to ignore and utterly impossible to resist.
But hang on—tonight wasn’t about one band. It was about all three acts coming together as a collective front of friendship, unity, and solidarity, no doubt instigated by Gogol Bordello themselves. This collective spirit is something really quite rare in terms of a gig and audience perception: Eugene coming on to play with Puzzled Panther, Puzzled Panther joining Gogol on stage, then Harry of Split Dogs adding her fire to the mix—and finally, all of them together in one glorious, chaotic finale.
This is what live music should be: barriers broken down, egos left at the door, pure connection.
Eugene—chief Gogol himself—is, from the off and while people are still wandering into the venue, in the pit filming the fantastic NYC post-punk newcomers Puzzled Panther, whose cover of Venus in Furs reveals influences and roots that delve deep into New York’s musical history—that lineage of art-punk experimentation and raw energy that never quite goes away—combined with a danceability reminiscent of Primal Scream meets Manchester. Their music, and the way it’s presented, is very much its own unique thing: energetic, engaging, and utterly captivating in its youthful intensity.
Hard-hitting yet effortlessly personable, they command the stage with a confidence that belies their newbie status. There’s something magnetic about watching a band this early in their journey—this hungry, this alive. Their short thirty-minute set leaves you wanting more, and the buzzing feeling they create becomes a benchmark for the night as a whole. With a new EP freshly released, this is a band to watch closely—one that carries the torch of New York’s underground legacy while blazing its own trail forward.
Split Dogs attack the stage as if their lives depend on it. Chat is tempered with a “better get on with it” attitude that feels full-blown punk—sonic and visual blitz. Despite being quite different from the other bands tonight, they clearly come from the same gene pool, just a different branch: raucous and here to destroy. Harry’s vocals lead from the front, attacking the stage with her distinctive voice and infectious attitude—thirty minutes of pure adrenaline and defiance. A thrill to watch, and the perfect catalyst for what’s about to follow.
Gogol Bordello literally invade the stage, which suddenly seems too small to contain them. Sprinting towards the cheering crowd, Eugene slams down a bottle of what I thought was Buckfast—turns out to be Cabernet Sauvignon. It erupts over photographers in the pit, and the tone for the night is set. This is a full-blown visual and musical assault, especially when Pedro and Eugene combine to share vocals and deliver raga-rap as hard-hitting as it gets.
A continuous high-tempo, body-slamming beat; relentless accordion and violin drones carry through the songs with almost no let-up in the wave of emotion and energy. This is music that demands everything from you—your attention, your body, your voice, your heart.
Some smile-inducing moments include nods to several of their surprisingly less obvious 1980s influences: snippets of I Want Candy by Bow Wow Wow, Gangsters by The Specials, and TV Eye by The Stooges. The set becomes a celebration not just of their own music but of the lineage that brought them here—a reminder that all great music is built on what came before, reimagined and reborn.
It’s been impossible to review or even consider just Gogol Bordello in isolation tonight. This evening was as much about camaraderie as it was about music: older bands helping younger bands, and vice versa. Passing the torch while still holding it high—a beautiful, rare thing in an industry that too often forgets its roots.
On the night of 25 October 2025, Barrowland hosted three bands: support from Arkayla and Feet, followed by headliners The Royston Club. What unfolded was a night that leaned into emotion, energy, and connection.
From the start, the crowd filled the room with excitement — not just for the headliner, but from the moment the first band took the stage. Arkayla opened with confidence, their set full of punchy indie rock and a strong stage presence. They carried themselves like a band who knew how to warm up a room, and by the time they left the stage, the crowd was already leaning forward, ready for more.
Feet followed with great energy and rhythm. Their set struck a balance between tight musicianship and just the right amount of chaos. Propulsive grooves, sharp vocals, and a clear chemistry between band members made them stand out. By the end, they had won over a fair share of the crowd — and for me, they were the highlight of the night. Their final track left the room buzzing and perfectly set up for the main act.
When The Royston Club walked on stage, they wasted no time, launching straight into Patch Where Nothing Grows and Glued to the Bed from their newly released album Songs for the Spine — also the name of their current tour. Behind them stood a giant silhouette of a bull, a striking symbol that framed the performance with boldness and intent.
Frontman Tom Faithfull (vocals and rhythm guitar) balanced emotional vulnerability with rock urgency. His voice held the room’s attention throughout, while Ben Matthias (lead guitar), Dave Tute (bass), and Sam Jones (drums) delivered playing that was both tight and expressive. Their chemistry was clear — particularly on Spinning, where the live version carried extra emotional weight before lifting into full-band power.
The set mixed new material with early favourites, keeping the energy high while allowing moments of reflection. They closed with Cariad, a vulnerable track from Songs for the Spine, which created a rare stillness in a room otherwise charged with energy.
It was a night that confirmed The Royston Club’s growing success. With Feet and Arkayla setting the stage perfectly, this was a show that balanced intimacy and urgency — a night of jump-along rock and collective connection that left Barrowland glowing.
On a night that saw Pop Mutations collaborate with the Tiny Changes charity to present six shows across Glasgow, the hottest ticket was undoubtedly Altered Images at The Glad Café. Returning home for an incredibly intimate gig, everyone knew this was going to be special — one of those rare evenings where the stars align.
Altered Images will always be one of Glasgow’s perpetually shining lights of 1980s pop — a band that has never really gone away, their songs woven into the fabric of our collective memory. Instantly recognisable and loved as much today as they were four decades ago, to see such an act with this kind of pedigree in a venue this small was always going to be something to behold and savour. A real “I was there” moment.
But where do I start? Clare Grogan needs no introduction, especially here in Scotland. She and her songs have soundtracked our lives for as long as I care to remember, and like so many people here tonight, the thought of seeing her perform so close up left me almost breathless. That joyous, infectious ray of light that just makes you smile — a presence that feels both familiar and magical.
She appeared dressed in the most remarkable costume — shimmering and floating like a butterfly, reflecting light and creating an eye-catching focal point that seemed to capture the very essence of the music itself.
The first knockout punch came with set opener “I Could Be Happy” — such a heavyweight number to kick off proceedings and get everyone on side. From that moment, the room belonged to her.
The hit-laden set unravelled beautifully, with Grogan perfectly at ease, chatting and joking between numbers. She reflected on how her singing voice has deepened over time, leaving her “Minnie Mouse” voice of youth behind, though she remained determined to sing in the same key as before. She giggled — albeit perhaps slightly miffed — at the thought that her husband and daughter were working in London rather than being here to give moral support. She grew emotional remembering how her then-bandmate and later-to-be husband had written “Don’t Talk to Me About Love” together, and in the same breath, almost welling up, marvelled that she cannot believe she has been with him so long. These tender and at times tongue-in-cheek moments felt truly genuine, shared with humour and humility — unguarded glimpses into a life lived in music.
There was a welcome nod to the band’s very early roots, with new wave classics “Dead Pop Star” and “Insects” sitting perfectly alongside newer, yet almost retro-analogue synth tracks such as “Mascara Streakz” and “Double Reflection”. The evolution evident, yet the essence unchanged.
Tonight was utterly fantastic. To see a band of this calibre in a venue this intimate really is a rare thing — spellbinding, joyous, and a memory to hold dear and cherish. An evening where past and present merged seamlessly; where nostalgia felt not like looking back, but like coming home.
East Kilbride. I’ve never been and, if I’m honest, I don’t really know exactly where it is or how to get there — but what I do know is that from this place emerges beautiful music that reaches far beyond the boundaries of its origins. Like flowers emerging from cracks in the concrete, reaching for the sun and beyond — defiant, necessary, essential.
The foundation of Gates of Light — AKA Louise Quinn — comes from this place. A singular performer whose collaborations with electro-centric musicians and producers from London, Paris, New York and Glasgow have resulted in some of the most remarkable and captivating music to be created and released on local label Last Night From Glasgow. This is music that exists in the spaces between the organic and the synthetic, between hope and heartbreak.
Performances and releases are few and far between, which makes them all the more precious. So the fact that they perform tonight in support of the Tiny Changes charity feels not just fortunate but somehow fitting — an act of generosity that mirrors the emotional openness of the music itself.
Tonight’s show sees Louise perform with Finlay Macdonald, and the set eases into existence with the bittersweet slow-burner Better Now — a song that doesn’t so much begin as materialise. For me, the highlight of the Gates of Light repertoire comes early, and it hits like a revelation. Quiet Little Miracle is a masterpiece of melancholic hope and yearning — so quiet, so mesmerising, so devastatingly beautiful. I urge you to seek out this song and challenge you not to be moved to your core. Louise’s voice is so pure and natural, untouched by artifice or pretension, that its pairing with an electronic soundtrack creates a perfect union of sweet and sour, blood and code — human vulnerability wrapped in digital precision.
As the set gathers pace, the dynamics shift. Advance introduces a near-techno pulse that feels both urgent and hypnotic, and the duo look perfectly at home in the space they have created. Hypnotic projections of graphic shapes and colour flood the stage with perpetual movement, the visuals pulsing in sync with the music as sound and vision become one immersive experience.
What strikes me most about Gates of Light is the emotional honesty at the heart of everything they do. In an age of overproduction and artifice, there’s something profoundly moving about music this stripped back, this vulnerable, this real. Louise’s voice carries the weight of lived experience — joy and pain in equal measure — while the electronic framework provides not distance but intimacy, creating spaces for emotion to breathe and resonate.
The ability to see Gates of Light in the wild is a rare thing, and tonight proves exactly why they matter. Make sure you take every opportunity to catch them, and in the meantime, seek out their music and support their beautiful work wherever you may find it.
In a world that often feels too loud, too brash, too certain of itself, Gates of Light offer something different — something quieter, deeper, more honest. Something vital.
NewDad returned to Glasgow on Monday night with a warm and confident performance at SWG3’s TV Studio, celebrating the recent release of their debut album, Altar. The set leaned heavily into the new material, with standout tracks such as Everything I Wanted,Pretty, and Misery already settling in as firm fan favourites. These songs showcased the band’s knack for melancholic melodies wrapped in hazy, shimmering textures.
A brief technical fault during the second song could have thrown things off, but the band handled it with ease. With smiles all around and cheers from the crowd, they kept going, and the issue was sorted within seconds.
Highlights of the night included a powerful version of Sickly Sweet, the moody, swirling Blue, and a stunning encore featuring Angel and Roobosh, ending the night on an emotional and atmospheric high.
In a venue known for hosting rising acts, NewDad proved they’re not just ones to watch — they’re already here, and they’re quietly brilliant.
Panic Shack were back in Glasgow, only several months since they were here last — this time playing the larger Garage for the release of their self-titled debut album.
They kicked off the evening with the popular and catchy ‘Gok Wan’, the perfect way to raise the energy for the rest of their set, which was filled with more fan favourites such as ‘Girl Band Starter Pack’, ‘Jiu Jits-You’, and ‘Thelma and Louise’.
It wasn’t long before the mosh pit was in full swing, with many unable to resist joining in or dancing along further back. The charismatic four-piece kept up a good back-and-forth with the crowd, later stating that they “love it here”.
A highlight of the evening was their cover of ‘War Pigs’, originally by metal legends Black Sabbath. They nailed the distinctive riffs and iconic solos, with Nick Doherty-Williams putting on an awesome show on drums. They cleverly merged into ‘Tit School’ from their new album, keeping up the high energy from their exciting but unexpected cover.
They closed the night with a good mix of old and new, including ‘Who’s Got My Lighter?’ and the new track ‘Pockets’, before finishing on another fan favourite, ‘The Ick’. These final songs were quintessential Panic Shack — angsty vocals, gnarly riffs, and plenty of moments for a good mosh.
The Golden Bough 