The Golden Bough

There comes a point in every great rock band’s life when they have to decide whether they’re still dangerous or merely dependable. Kings of Leon, once the greasy Tennessee outsiders who looked like they’d wandered off the set of That ’70s Show after a three-day bender, have long since crossed that bridge. At Bellahouston Park they looked less like Southern rock’n’roll misfits and more like moustachioed craft coffee evangelists who’d happily discuss the merits of single-origin Ethiopian beans over a flat white in Zennor Coffee.

Image isn’t everything, of course. But rock music has always been about illusion as much as sound, and somewhere along the road the Followill brothers traded menace for middle age. That’s hardly a crime. The question is whether the music still carries the weight.

For much of the evening, the answer was… almost.

Playing to a crowd approaching Bellahouston Park’s outdoor concert capacity of around 35,000, the audience turnout appeared close to a sell-out, with the field looking impressively full. The Glasgow faithful were clearly willing participants, but the band never quite gave them the sense that something unforgettable was unfolding.

The setlist was certainly generous, stretching across two decades and 24 songs, from Find Me and Taper Jean Girl through to staples like Pyro, Closer and Black Thumbnail. It read like the work of a band trying to satisfy every generation of fan simultaneously. That’s easier on paper than it is in practice.

Somewhere around halfway through, the performance settled into a predictable rhythm. Caleb Followill’s trademark elongated “woooah-oh-ohs” became increasingly prominent, accompanied by the familiar rock-star shuffle: pacing from one side of the stage to the other, shoulders back, microphone held low, the sort of choreographed nonchalance that has become almost muscle memory. It wasn’t bad. It just wasn’t particularly alive.

There was surprisingly little chemistry radiating from the stage. Between songs, the interaction rarely rose above standard festival script. A throwaway “That’s the best fans we’ve had on tour” landed with an audible shrug, while the inevitable “No Scotland, no party!” felt like another well-worn line retrieved from the touring playbook rather than a genuine moment of connection.

Visually, the production felt oddly caught between eras too. The dreamy star-field graphics might once have looked cinematic, but in an age where grainy VHS textures, analogue cameras and lo-fi aesthetics have become fashionable again, they seemed strangely dated rather than nostalgic.

The sound didn’t entirely help matters either. At points the mix felt thinner than it should have been, lacking the muscular punch that Kings of Leon’s catalogue demands. Songs like Fans and Beautiful War lost some of their emotional weight through a surprisingly tinny front-of-house mix.

Yet every so often the old Kings of Leon emerged.

The Bucket still swaggered. Four Kicks reminded everyone why this band were once impossible to ignore. Black Thumbnail retained its snarling edge. And Pyro remains one of modern rock’s finest slow-burning anthems.

Then came Knocked Up, Cold Desert and, especially, Arizona, proving that beneath the stadium polish there is still a remarkably gifted band capable of creating atmosphere without resorting to bombast.

The evening’s genuine turning point arrived with Use Somebody. Those soaring vocal refrains—the very thing that had begun to feel repetitive earlier in the show—suddenly found their purpose. Tens of thousands of voices took over, and for a few minutes Bellahouston became one enormous choir. It was one of the rare occasions where the band’s restrained performance actually worked in its favour.

Ironically, the biggest disappointment came right at the end.

Sex on Fire has become both Kings of Leon’s greatest commercial triumph and, arguably, their artistic burden. Watching thousands instinctively lift their phones as the opening riff rang out felt entirely predictable. It remains a colossal anthem…

But that’s precisely the problem.

For a band with a catalogue as rich as Kings of Leon’s, ending every show with the song that transformed them from respected rock band into global pop phenomenon feels increasingly unimaginative. It’s the safe choice rather than the brave one. You leave remembering the singalong instead of the band.

This wasn’t a return to the hungry, volatile Kings of Leon who once made Youth & Young Manhood and Aha Shake Heartbreak. Nor was it a cynical greatest-hits package from musicians going through the motions. It sat awkwardly somewhere in between: a hugely accomplished band balancing artistic credibility against the expectations that come with having one of the biggest rock hits of the 21st century.

The songs are still there. The craftsmanship remains undeniable. But the danger, the swagger and the unpredictable spark that once made Kings of Leon feel essential now surfaces only in flashes.

Bellahouston got exactly what it paid for: a polished stadium show packed with hits. It just never quite felt like witnessing a great rock band at full stretch.

Words: Angela Canavan

Images: Ryan Buchanan

After days of yellow weather warnings hanging over Glasgow, it seemed Summer Sessions might begin under dark skies. Instead, the clouds gave way to glorious sunshine, leaving Skunk Anansie to deliver the only storm Bellahouston Park would experience that evening. They didn’t just open the festival—they metaphorically blew the roof off the place.

Having seen Skunk Anansie live countless times over the years, I thought I knew exactly what to expect: explosive performances, relentless energy and Skin’s unmatched stage presence. Yet somehow, they continue to exceed expectations every single time. While many bands from the same era are content to trade on nostalgia, Skunk Anansie remain refreshingly relevant. Their latest album, The Painful Truth, confirms they remain as fearless, relevant and vital as ever.

From the moment Charlie Big Potato erupted across Bellahouston Park, Skin commanded the stage with complete authority. Every movement felt purposeful, every lyric carried conviction, and every interaction with the audience felt genuine, reinforcing why she remains one of Britain’s most compelling frontwomen. Dressed in an oversized black skull T-shirt, cycling shorts and fluorescent pink Adidas socks, her understated look only served to highlight what mattered most: her rare ability to make a festival stage feel both immense and surprisingly personal.

What has always set Skunk Anansie apart is their willingness to confront uncomfortable truths. Beneath the thunderous guitars, driving rhythms and powerful melodies lies a band whose songs have always carried substance as well as power. Whether exploring identity, prejudice, injustice or vulnerability, their music has consistently reflected the realities of the world around them with honesty and conviction. In many ways, The Painful Truth feels less like a new direction and more like the latest chapter in a conversation the band have been having for over three decades. It proves they remain driven by conviction rather than comfort, refusing to soften either their message or their music.

One moment Skin’s voice barely rises above a whisper; the next it tears across Bellahouston Park with breathtaking intensity, reminding everyone why she has long been regarded as one of rock’s finest vocalists. Her performance moved effortlessly between quiet vulnerability and raw intensity, often within the same song, carrying every lyric with equal measures of precision and emotion. If there was any doubt about the lasting impact of Skunk Anansie’s catalogue, Weak and Hedonism (Just Because You Feel Good) answered it. Long before Skin reached the microphone, Bellahouston Park had already taken over vocal duties, every chorus echoing back with the kind of passion reserved for songs that have become woven into people’s lives. Some songs fade with time. These have simply found new generations of voices to sing them. The heavier moments of the set, meanwhile, served as a reminder that Skunk Anansie remain one of Britain’s most formidable live bands, delivering wave after wave of intensity without ever sacrificing musicianship.

Behind Skin, Ace’s guitar work was one of the evening’s standout features, effortlessly shifting between crushing riffs, soaring melodies and intricate solos that gave every song even greater impact. Cass and Mark Richardson provided the relentless foundation that has defined the band’s sound for decades, while the chemistry between the four musicians was unmistakable. There is an effortless chemistry to the way they perform together that only comes from years of sharing a stage, each member instinctively knowing exactly when to step forward and when to let the music breathe.

Watching Skin perform is never a passive experience—she refuses to allow it. Long before the final chorus, the invisible divide between stage and audience had all but disappeared, replaced by thousands of people sharing in something that felt less like a concert and more like a collective release. One of the evening’s defining moments came during I Can Dream, when Skin once again demonstrated why few performers connect with an audience quite like she does. Stepping into the crowd with her now-famous “Skin Cam”, she transformed festival-goers from spectators into part of the performance itself. It wasn’t simply crowd interaction—it encapsulated everything that has always made Skunk Anansie such a compelling live band. By the time Tear the Place Up brought the set to a close, Summer Sessions was officially underway. More than three decades after they first burst onto the scene, Skunk Anansie remain fearless, authentic and defiantly relevant. The Painful Truth is more than an album title; it encapsulates everything the band have stood for throughout their career—a refusal to shy away from saying the difficult things out loud. They didn’t just open Summer Sessions—they reminded everyone why, after all these years, they still matter.

 
If Skunk Anansie provided the thunder, Wet Leg supplied the sunshine. Bringing their unmistakable blend of witty lyricism, deceptively catchy melodies and understated charm to Bellahouston Park, the band delivered a set that felt effortlessly authentic from beginning to end. Fresh from the release of their second album, Moisturizer, the Isle of Wight five-piece showed exactly why they have become one of Britain’s most exciting indie bands, combining sharp songwriting, relaxed confidence and effortless musicianship to win over an already enthusiastic Summer Sessions crowd.

From the opening notes of Catch These Fists, it was clear Wet Leg were exactly where they belonged. Their relaxed stage presence and understated confidence made the performance feel wonderfully unforced from beginning to end. Rhian Teasdale’s dry humour and understated charisma perfectly complemented the band’s musicianship, creating a set that felt both intimate and effortlessly suited to the festival stage. Dressed in simple white shorts and top, finished with chunky tan boots, Teasdale embodied the band’s signature style: understated, authentic and quietly confident.

What makes Wet Leg so compelling is their ability to make simplicity feel exciting. Their songs are packed with clever observations, offbeat humour and deceptively catchy melodies that linger long after they’ve finished. Beneath the playful lyrics lies a band of exceptional musicians, with Hester Chambers‘ intricate guitar work and the tight rhythm section providing the perfect foundation for every song.

Although Moisturizer marks the next chapter for the band, the newer material sat seamlessly alongside fan favourites, demonstrating just how naturally their sound continues to evolve. Rather than chasing trends or reinventing themselves, Wet Leg remain true to the qualities that first won them acclaim: originality, authenticity and an ability to find humour in the everyday.

If there was any doubt about which songs the crowd had been waiting for, Chaise Longue, Wet Dream and Ur Mum quickly answered it. Bellahouston Park erupted into huge singalongs, every witty lyric echoed back with infectious enthusiasm as the audience embraced the band’s playful spirit. It was impossible not to smile watching thousands of people shout every word in unison, transforming songs already rich in personality into genuinely memorable festival moments.

It was a performance built on personality rather than spectacle, allowing the band’s wit, musicianship and authenticity to speak for themselves. By the time Mangetout brought the set to a close, Wet Leg had done exactly what great festival bands do: they left thousands of people smiling. With clever songwriting, undeniable musicianship and a refreshing lack of pretence, they delivered a set that felt every bit as genuine as it was entertaining. In an evening shared with two legendary artists, Wet Leg never tried to be anything other than themselves—and that proved to be their greatest strength.

Alanis Morissette delivers an unforgettable masterclass at Glasgow Summer Sessions
By the time Alanis Morissette stepped onto the Summer Sessions stage, Bellahouston Park had already witnessed two outstanding performances. For many, this was the moment they had waited decades for—a chance to hear the songs that defined much of the 1990s. Yet what unfolded was far more than a celebration of a remarkable catalogue. From the opening notes, Morissette reminded everyone that truly great songwriting doesn’t belong to one era. Her music endures because its emotional honesty feels every bit as powerful today as when those songs were first written.

Having waited decades to finally see Alanis Morissette perform live, expectations were enormous. Somehow, she surpassed every one of them. More than thirty years after Jagged Little Pill redefined a generation, Morissette remains an artist whose work refuses to be confined to the past. Her songs explore love, heartbreak, healing, identity, forgiveness and resilience with a sincerity that still feels deeply relevant. They are timeless not because they are old, but because they remain profoundly human.

From the opening notes of Hand in My Pocket, Morissette commanded Bellahouston Park with effortless authority. There was nothing forced about her performance; her confidence came entirely from the songs and the conviction with which she delivered them. Dressed simply in black with a flowing burgundy layer, she moved seamlessly between acoustic guitar, harmonica and centre stage. Her glittering gold guitar added a little extra sparkle to the evening—because, apparently, extraordinary songwriting wasn’t quite enough. Every smile, every glance towards the audience and every spoken reflection revealed an artist completely at ease with herself and deeply connected to every lyric she sang.

Behind the band, beautifully understated visuals unfolded across the giant screens. Atmospheric woodland imagery, shifting colours and subtle lighting echoed the emotional landscape of each song without ever competing for attention. Like the performance itself, every visual element served the music, creating an experience that felt both intimate and cinematic.

If there was one aspect of the performance that lingered long after the final note, it was Morissette’s voice. Rich, expressive and remarkably powerful, it remains one of the most distinctive in modern music. One moment it conveyed the quietest vulnerability; the next it soared with breathtaking intensity, carrying decades of lived experience in every lyric. Rather than revisiting old favourites, Morissette inhabited every song completely. Each performance felt immediate, deeply personal and emotionally fearless, as though these stories were still unfolding in the present.

The setlist struck a thoughtful balance between the songs that defined a generation and later material that deserved every bit as much recognition. While Hand in My Pocket, Head Over Feet, Ironic, You Learn, You Oughta Know, Uninvited and the closing Thank U prompted huge singalongs, songs such as Reasons I Drink, Smiling and Rest sat naturally alongside them, demonstrating how her songwriting has continued to evolve without ever losing the qualities that first captivated audiences. It never felt like a greatest-hits show; instead, it felt like a journey through every chapter of an extraordinary career.

Among the evening’s defining moments was Mary Jane. Stripped back and emotionally exposed, it became one of those rare performances where an entire audience seemed to fall silent. Morissette sang with such raw emotion that every lyric felt deeply personal—a reminder that some of her most affecting work has never been measured by chart success. It was an unforgettable performance that lingered long after the final note had faded.

Few songwriters have explored life’s contradictions with the honesty of Alanis Morissette. Throughout her catalogue, vulnerability sits comfortably beside strength, heartbreak alongside healing, and anger alongside forgiveness. It is that emotional truth—never simplified, never sanitised—that gives her music its enduring power.

For many, Summer Sessions offered the chance to revisit the soundtrack of their youth. What Alanis Morissette delivered was something far more meaningful. Rather than simply celebrating the past, she reminded everyone why these songs have endured for more than three decades. Honest, fearless and emotionally generous, they continue to find new meaning at every stage of life. As thousands of voices joined together for Thank U, it became clear that this was never just about nostalgia—it was about music that still understands us. And that is what made the evening truly unforgettable.

 

Written by Louise Meina

Images: Euan Robertson

With a stacked line up of Bowling for Soup, Frank Turner & The Sleeping Souls and American Hi-Fi, the “Bowl My Bones” tour brought a healthy dose of rock-pop-punk nostalgia to the O2 Academy on 29th June.

American Hi-Fi got proceedings underway in atmospheric fashion, taking to the stage under deep red lighting and swirling smoke. It didn’t take long for them to win over the Glasgow crowd who responded enthusiastically throughout the set. A particularly warm reception came when the band reminisced about playing King Tut’s Wah Wah Hut many years ago, prompting a huge cheer from fans who clearly appreciated the nod to the city’s rich live music history.

Frank Turner & The Sleeping Souls followed with a performance that was anything but sleepy. Turner proved adept at keeping the audience engaged between songs, while the band’s relentless energy ensured there was barely a moment to catch a breath. The crowd enthusiastically sang along to much of the set, creating the kind of communal atmosphere that has become synonymous with Frank Turner‘s live shows. One of the evening’s standout moments came during the band’s well known Wall of Death, or rather, Wall of Hugs. As the crowd split down the middle, the usual expectations of chaos were replaced with something far more heartwarming as fans rushed forward to embrace one another instead. It was a wholesome reminder of the welcoming community that surrounds Turner’s music.

It was then time for Bowling For Soup and they showcased their big personalities before they had even stepped on stage. Live backstage footage was projected onto a giant screen, allowing fans to watch the band joking around and preparing for the show moments before making their entrance.

The trio delivered a performance that was overflowing with fun, fuelled by relentless energy, humour and constant interaction with the audience. Bassist Rob Felicetti barely stood still, spending much of the night kicking and jumping while singer/guitarist Jaret Reddick joked with the audience like they were old friends. Drummer Gary Wiseman didn’t let up the whole night, smashing the drums to keep everyone bouncing.

“High School Never Ends” had the packed Academy dancing and singing along, while the band’s cover of Fountains of Wayne’s “Stacey’s Mom” proved a perfect addition to the setlist, drawing huge cheers from a crowd largely raised on music from the early 2000s. One of the most memorable moments came during, “Girl All The Bad Guys Want”. Inviting two young fans onto the stage to perform alongside them transformed an already energetic performance into something really special. Their excitement was impossible to miss, and it was one of those moments that will undoubtedly stay with them long after the final encore.

As the lights came up, the crowd spilled out of the Academy still buzzing from a night that perfectly balanced nostalgia with outstanding live entertainment.

Article: Kim Sabetelli

Thursday 9th July – Scotland’s festival for music discovery, TENEMENT TRAIL Festival, has today announced the first wave of artists for this year’s event which takes place on 10th October, including huge Scottish co-headliners Baby Strange and Brògeal. Baby Strange are reforming exclusively for TENEMENT TRAIL and headline the Barrowland for a special, one-off show marking the 10th anniversary of their debut album ‘Want It Need It’, while Brògeal headline Barras Art and Design (BAaD). Set times have been arranged so fans can catch both performances across the night. 

Alongside the headliners, the 2026 line-up brings together 45+ artists. Fans can expect a mix of established festival favourites and some of the most exciting emerging talent on the scene, including Cliffords, The Orielles and Willie J Healey.

Having played the very first TENEMENT TRAIL in 2013, Baby Strange are reforming for one night only to co-headline the festival and play the Barrowland. A true full-circle moment for both the band and the festival, the landmark show will celebrate the 10th anniversary of their acclaimed debut album ‘Want It Need It’. The Glasgow outfit are a defining part of TENEMENT TRAIL’s story, with previous appearances spanning the inaugural event in 2013, a surprise last-minute set in 2018, and the festival’s first year in Glasgow’s East End in 2019. Fans won’t want to miss this historic performance from one of the city’s most influential modern bands – one that is sure to go down in the Glasgow music history books. Johnny Madden, frontman of Baby Strange, said: “We’re really excited to be reuniting for one night only to headline TENEMENT TRAIL this year, celebrating 10 years of our debut album ‘Want It Need It’. The album holds a special place in our hearts, and there’s no better place to play it than the Barras! This will be our fourth time playing TENEMENT TRAIL, the first being back in 2013. Thanks to TENEMENT TRAIL for having us and for everything they’ve done for Scottish music.”“We’re looking forward to celebrating with everyone who’s been part of the journey, and those seeing us live for the first time. It’s going to be a really memorable night. Now, let’s see if we can remember how to play the songs…”

Falkirk’s Brògeal also return as co-headliners, following the release of their hit debut album ‘Tuesday Paper Club’ last year. Known for their electrifying blend of Scottish folk and indie music, the five-piece have gone from strength to strength since their last TRAIL performance in 2022 when they played the Barrowland 2. Since then, they’ve amassed a loyal following across the UK, playing huge shows at TRNSMT Festival, The Great Escape, Eurosonic and more, alongside support slots with the likes of Paolo Nutini, The Pogues and The Mary Wallopers. 

Organisers Tenement TV and DF Concerts also confirm AKA, Angelface, Bad Gravy, Boxing Club, Burglar, Chancer, Compost Compost Compost, Conscious Pilot, Dan Parks, Dice, Diva Down, Ewan McKenna, Faeda, Fatale, Ferguson Hi-Fi, Foreign2, heavyskint, Heidi Curtis, Jack Torrance, LeisureLand, Limonead, Lupercalia, Maicin, Makeshift Art Bar, Morgan T Morris, My First Time, Oedipus and the Mama’s Boys, Paulie Swan, Pixie McCann, Pyncher, Quality Control, Quiet Houses, Sally Stenning, Slag, Sodakill, Supersun, THEATRE, The Paris Match, Tom A Smith, Woody.

Spanning some of Glasgow’s most iconic East End music venues, TENEMENT TRAIL is a unique multi-venue festival showcasing the best in emerging music across 10 hours, 50 artists and eight venues. With just one ticket, fans can enjoy performances at The Barrowland Ballroom, Barrowland 2, Barras Art and Design (BAaD), St Luke’s, The Winged Ox, 226 Gallowgate, Van Winkles and McChuill’s.

Among the first wave of artists announced, Cork-based five-piece Cliffords are tipped as one of Ireland’s most exciting emerging guitar bands. Also joining the bill are Mercury Prize-nominated The Orielles, whose blend of post-punk, disco, psych and dream-pop influences has earned them a devoted following across the UK. Making their TENEMENT TRAIL debut in October, they’ll be joined by acclaimed Oxfordshire songwriter Willie J Healey, whose warm, melodic indie rock and charismatic live performances make him a hugely exciting addition to this year’s TENEMENT TRAIL. Festival organiser Chae Houston said:“Brògeal are a band we’ve been buzzing about since they came onto our radar in 2022, playing the Barras 2 at TRAIL that year. We gave them number 1 track of the year in 2024 so to have them co-headlining our music festival this year showcases exactly what TRAIL is about! “Baby Strange’s special 10th anniversary show is going to be one for the TRAIL history books. The band are a hugely important part of Glasgow’s music scene – they played the first ever TENEMENT TRAIL  on Sauchiehall Street in 2013 and our first in the east end in 2019. This is a full circle moment for the festival. We cannot wait to see fan reactions to this news!”

Follow TENEMENT TRAIL on socials @tenementtrail. 

Tickets on sale now at tenementtrail.com2026 LINE-UP ANNOUNCED SO FAR
Baby Strange (10th anniversary show) | Brògeal | | Cliffords | The Orielles | Willie J Healey

AKA, Angelface, Bad Gravy, Boxing Club, Burglar, Chancer, Compost Compost Compost, Conscious Pilot, Dan Parks, Dice, Diva Down, Ewan McKenna, Faeda, Fatale, Ferguson Hi-Fi, Foreign2, heavyskint, Heidi Curtis, Jack Torrance, LeisureLand, Limonead, Lupercalia, Maicin, Makeshift Art Bar, Morgan T Morris, My First Time, Oedipus and the Mama’s Boys, Paulie Swan, Pixie McCann, Pyncher, Quality Control, Quiet Houses, Sally Stenning, Slag, Sodakill, Supersun, THEATRE, The Paris Match, Tom A Smith, Woody

On one of Glasgow’s hottest nights of the year, the sold out Barrowland Ballroom was exactly what you’d expect; gloriously atmospheric and absolutely sweltering. By the time Sierra Ferrell took to the stage as part of her Heavy Petal Tour, the legendary venue had become something of a sauna, with handheld fans in constant motion and brief breaks in the slightly-cooler area outside the main room a necessity for those of us not used to the heat . The security team deserved enormous credit as they worked tirelessly throughout the evening to keep the crowd hydrated.

The audience was as colourful as the music itself. Cowboy boots rubbed shoulders (ankles?) with flip-flops, double denim met flowing prairie dresses, flower crowns dotted the crowd, and cowboy hats were everywhere. There were moustaches aplenty and one particularly brave soul had donned a kilt despite the heat. There was even a sparkling sequinned playsuit that looked perfectly at home beneath the Barrowlands disco ball!

Opening the evening were The Brudi Brothers, whose easy charm quickly won over the Glasgow crowd. The handsome trio had great chemistry and played a set filled with tight harmonies and lively musicianship. By the time they wrapped up, the audience was warmed up (literally) and ready for their headliner.

Sierra Ferrell has carved out a musical identity all of her own. Drawing on her Appalachian roots while weaving together country, folk and bluegrass influences, the former busker has built a sound that’s difficult to categorise but instantly recognisable. That free-spirited, nomadic quality runs through both her music and her stage presence.

Joined by a superb band of musicians, Ferrell captivated the packed ballroom from the outset. Dressed in a striking blue dress and eye-catching shoes, with flowers woven through her hair (including Scottish thistles in a thoughtful nod to the local audience), she commanded the stage with effortless charisma. In acknowledgement of the stifling conditions, she regularly paused to remind everyone to drink plenty of water, her concern for the audience adding another layer of warmth to an already intimate performance.

The set balanced fan favourites with fresh material, including new song “Pair of Dice”, which received an immediate and enthusiastic reception. Songs such as John Anderson tribute “Years” had the audience singing every word, while “In Dreams” prompted another huge response. One of the evening’s standout moments came during “Fox Hunt“, where Ferrell demonstrated that her talents extend far beyond her distinctive vocals. Picking up the fiddle, she delivered a breathtaking performance that drew wild cheers from the crowd and showcased the remarkable musicianship shared across the entire band.

Ferrell closed the night in style with an encore that included a rousing cover of Kris Kristofferson‘s “Me and Bobby McGee“, sending the sold-out crowd home on a high.

Article: Kim Sabetelli

After a Friday spent drenched in unavoidable downpours, followed by tentative Saturday sunshine, TRNSMT Festival was finally blessed with a true Scottish scorcher for its close on Sunday. Blaring sunshine and relentless heat graced Glasgow Green, drying out the mud to allow festival-goers in their thousands to enjoy the final day. 

Sunday’s programme leaned slightly more towards singer-songwriters and reflective performances, in contrast to the indie powerhouses of the previous days. Sets from Skye Newman and Finn Forster offered soulful moments, while the day also showcased the depth of Scotland’s music scene. From the folk-inflected storytelling of Jacob Alon and Katie Gregson-MacLeod, to the indie-pop charms of Abbie Gordon and Blair Davie, the festival’s commitment to Scottish talent was evident across the day’s line-up.

Later in the day, the confetti cannons and fireworks reserved for established Scottish headliners became a reminder of where such support may lead. If TRNSMT has built a reputation for giving an opportunity to the rising stars of Scotland, Sunday’s line-up suggested that one or two of these names could yet follow in the footsteps of Lewis Capaldi and Amy MacDonald, who, gracing the main stage, were met by an adoring homecoming. 

Artists from outside Scotland added their own twist to proceedings. Westside Cowboy brought their unique take on “Britainicana”, which sees a blend between American country music and the eccentricity of British indie lyrics. Overpass were true to form in providing the traditional British indie festival soundtrack, drawing a loyal, enthusiastic crowd that yelled every word from atop friends’ shoulders. Perrie, of Little Mix fame, brought true, unabashed, upbeat radio pop. 

However the real star of the festival was CMAT. The Irish star was funny, sincere, and an expressive performer, demonstrating how quality songwriting can be paired with a good time. Dressed in a yellow polka dot dress that popped against her red hair, CMAT’s skill came from not taking herself too seriously – joking with fans between songs as easily as she delivered them, completely at home in the Scottish sunshine. 

TRNSMT, a festival that always seems to be surrounded by whispers about its future and judgments of its success, remains a necessary fixture in the nation’s musical calendar.

Article: Anni Cameron

Gallery: Anni Cameron

Gallery: Marco Cornelli

After a soaked first day on Friday, TRNSMT was bathed in sunshine on its second day, and there was an unmistakable sense that the festival was letting tomorrow’s music stars steal the present, helped by the glorious weather. The festival’s smaller tents were already overflowing with fans early in the morning, chasing word-of-mouth recommendations.

Opening the King’s Tut’s Stage, Chasing Abbey set the tone. Their blend of electronic music with trad Irish influences felt tailor-made for a warm Glasgow welcome. Their early slot quickly became one of those “I was there before everyone else arrived” performances that festival veterans love to brag about.

Across on the BBC Introducing Stage, Sister Madds wasted no time announcing themself. After seeing them multiple times, it still felt like the first time. Confident, charismatic and armed with sharp songwriting, their set carried the excitement of a band discovering just how well their music translates to a festival audience.

Lacuna followed with a darker, more atmospheric performance. The Glasgow band offered a welcome contrast to the brighter indie sounds of The Snuts on the Main Stage, proving they deserve a much larger venue. Every song seemed to build patiently before exploding into moments of intensity.

One of the afternoon’s biggest surprises came from Madra Salach, whose blend of punk and Celtic grit resonated strongly with the Scottish audience. Raw without becoming chaotic, they delivered the kind of set that reminded everyone why the King’s Tut’s Stage continues to be TRNSMT’s breeding ground for exciting new bands.

If there was another act destined for a larger stage, it may well have been Girl Group. Their punchy post-punk, blended with pop and dry humour, transformed the BBC Introducing Stage into one of the day’s liveliest crowds.

Similarly impressive was Keo, whose emotional songwriting sat comfortably alongside The Fratellis, who were playing on the Main Stage. Their songs balanced vulnerability with confidence, giving the cheering crowd one of the day’s most heartfelt performances. It was easy to understand why industry buzz has surrounded them over the past year.

The Main Stage finally found its theatrical centrepiece with The Last Dinner Party. They delivered exactly what their growing reputation promises: gothic glamour, dramatic arrangements and commanding stage presence. It seemed as though we, as photographers, weren’t there for only three songs, but for the entire set. Every movement felt choreographed without ever appearing forced, while Abigail Morris remained one of the most magnetic frontwomen currently touring, interacting effortlessly with every member of the band and the crowd alike. She even came down from the Main Stage to perform among the fans, delivering what was undoubtedly the performance of the day. The Last Dinner Party’s songs continue to blur the line between indie rock and grand theatrical spectacle, and Glasgow embraced every second once again.

Back on the BBC Introducing Stage, Tanzana kept the bar high, injecting more soul into the evening with their set. Fresh from releasing their second single, their rhythmic confidence kept the audience mesmerised. I’ve seen them more than five times now, and I’m still of the opinion that they are destined for great things.

After them, Irish band Basht immediately raised the intensity once more. Their modern indie-rock anthems from their debut album arrived with power, producing one of the loudest singalongs outside the Main Stage all day, where Australian DJ Sonny Fodera was entertaining the festival’s biggest crowd. By the time they finished, it was clear they had gained a considerable number of new followers.

One of the festival’s coolest discoveries came from Australia’s Radio Free Alice. With echoes of The Strokes, the band channelled the best elements of classic post-punk while sounding thoroughly contemporary. Their performance possessed the confidence of a band already playing much bigger stages, and the packed tent suggested word had spread quickly across Glasgow Green.

Then came the night’s climax.

Kasabian remain one of Britain’s great festival headliners because they understand precisely what these moments demand. There was no overthinking, no unnecessary reinvention—just a relentless barrage of huge riffs, electronic sounds and crowd-pleasing anthems delivered with confidence. Serge Pizzorno has fully grown into the frontman role, arriving on stage in a giant leopard-print faux fur coat and commanding tens of thousands with ease, while classics such as Club Foot, Empire, Underdog and Fire reminded everyone why the band’s songs have become such enduring festival favourites.

Their closing set wasn’t simply nostalgic; it felt new. Their more recent tracks blended naturally with the classics, while the production transformed Glasgow Green into a sea of lights, smoke and bouncing fans from the very first song.

If Friday belonged to anticipation, Saturday belonged to discovery. TRNSMT has always balanced major headliners with emerging talent, but day two demonstrated that the gap between the two has never felt smaller. By this time next year, several of these “smaller bands” may well be headlining the very stages they spent Saturday outgrowing.

Article; Marco Cornelli

Images: Marco Cornelli & Angela Canavan

Gallery: Angela Canavan

A funny thing happened after I shared an old T in the Park poster from 2005.

What I thought would be a harmless dose of nostalgia quickly turned my DM’s into something that looked like the last orders bell had rung in a Scottish pub. Everybody had an opinion. Some mourned the loss of festivals they were convinced we’ll never see again. Others pointed towards DF Concerts’ grip on Scotland’s live music calendar and the uncomfortable reality that, as part of Live Nation, one promoter now occupies so much of the country’s concert landscape. Then came the entirely fair criticism that this year’s TRNSMT couldn’t find room for a single female headliner across three days.

All perfectly valid conversations.

But they weren’t the conversations people were having as they wandered out of Glasgow Green on Friday night.

Because festivals have never lived or died by posters.

They live in the spaces between the names.

In the accidental discoveries.

The conversations with strangers.

The bands you hadn’t planned on seeing.

Friday felt less like a concert and more like Glasgow opening every window in the city at once.

Beluga Lagoon drifted across the Main Stage like the first shaft of sunlight through a bedroom curtain. A shame then that they had to play in the deluge of wet Scottish weather. Gentle at first, but impossible to ignore. By the time Nile Rodgers & CHIC arrived, the entire site had found its pulse. Rodgers doesn’t play rhythm guitar so much as quietly remind everyone that he wrote the blueprint. Every riff landed with the confidence of someone who knows they’ve already changed popular music once and could probably do it again before dinner.

Dylan John Thomas didn’t need fireworks.

He walked on carrying the weight and warmth of the city with him. His songs feel lived in, full of bus routes, back courts and nights that started with one pint and somehow ended watching the sunrise over the Clyde. Every chorus came back from the crowd louder than it left the stage. Glasgow wasn’t watching one of its own. Glasgow was singing itself back.

Then came one of those moments no lineup poster could ever advertise.

I’d brought my young niece along for the day.

As we wandered away from Dylan and headed towards the BBC Introducing Stage she turned, completely matter-of-factly, and said,

“Auntie Ange… when we see Soapbox, we’ll go in the mosh pit for ‘Fascist Bob’.”

I nearly burst out laughing.

Forget the endless think pieces about young people being switched off or politically apathetic. This kid’s first instinct at a festival was to throw herself into a circle pit behind a Glasgow punk band shouting down fascists.

The future suddenly looked as though it was in very safe hands.

If the Main Stage is where memories are confirmed, BBC Introducing is where they’re born.

Soapbox didn’t so much play a set as kick the doors off the afternoon. There’s a joyful lack of polish about them; the kind that can’t be manufactured because it’s still fuelled by cheap rehearsal rooms, group chats and the stubborn belief that guitars can still change someone’s week. Their songs arrive swinging, funny one second and furious the next, all sharp elbows and crooked smiles.

They’re exactly the kind of band Scottish music has always produced when it’s got something to say.

Standing nearby were two sisters who’d travelled all the way down from Inverness.

Richard Ashcroft had sold them the ticket.

Soapbox justified the petrol money.

Later, we met a couple from Newcastle. They’d come north for Wolf Alice, only to emerge from King Tut’s Stage talking excitedly about NewDad instead. That’s the beautiful sleight of hand festivals have always performed. The headline act gets your attention while someone further down the bill quietly steals your heart.

King Tut’s Stage has always felt like the festival’s best-kept secret. A place where bands arrive carrying possibility instead of expectation. NewDad wrapped the tent in shimmering guitars that hung in the air like sea mist rolling in off Galway Bay, while The Beta Band remained gloriously difficult to pin down, making music that wanders wherever it pleases and somehow always ends up exactly where it should.

Wolf Alice have reached that rare point where they seem incapable of making a dull noise. Their set stretched and snapped, whispered and roared, always keeping one foot balanced on the edge of chaos. Watching them is a little like standing on a shoreline while the tide changes: calm one moment, overwhelming the next, and utterly indifferent to whether you’re ready for it.

Then Richard Ashcroft arrived.

Some singers perform songs.

Ashcroft lets songs perform history.

Every chorus carried twenty or thirty years of somebody else’s memories. Friends with arms around each other. Parents introducing teenagers to records they’d worn out decades ago. Complete strangers singing in perfect unison without ever exchanging names. It felt less like the end of a festival day than the closing chapter of a novel everybody already knew by heart.

Walking home, I thought about that old T in the Park poster again.

Maybe the lineups were bigger.

Maybe they weren’t.

Nostalgia has a habit of editing out the average bands and remembering only the legends.

What Friday at TRNSMT reminded me is that every legendary lineup started life as a poster full of names that hadn’t become legends yet.

The next great Scottish band won’t announce themselves from the top of a bill.

They’ll begin on a smaller stage, in front of a few hundred curious people, while someone who only came for the headliner accidentally discovers their new favourite band.

On Friday, that happened over and over again.

And that’s why, for all the noise that surrounds TRNSMT every year, Glasgow Green still feels like one of the most important fields in Scottish music—even if it doesn’t have a field anymore.

Article: Angela Canavan

Photos: Reanne McArthur & Marco Cornelli

Gallery by: Reanne McArthur