Fat White Family

To Glasgow after work. I stop in Comiston for a fish supper and see AlexB walking by. A face from the Acme history books - he’s on his way to a “men’s group”.

There’s a pile up on the M8 - I pull off as a fire engine tries to get through the queue. SWG3 is still empty when I arrive, and I install myself against one of the brutal concrete pillars.

The support band are Men’s Working Club, even though they have the only female band member of the evening. I like their sound, which reminds me of something I can’t quite put my finger on. Only the bassist sticks to his instrument, the others changing regularly, occasionally replacing the drummer with a drum machine to let h play guitar.

By the time Fat White Family come on the place is packed. They are described as “post punk” and they certainly deliver a screamingly loud, energy drenched set. The lead singer is at times possessed, jumping off the stage and perching on the security barrier at the front of a churning mosh pit. During one song he crowd surfs away from the stage trailing his mic lead - leaving security the bizarre job of trying to untangle it from the sweaty pogoing audience.

And then it’s over. We stream into the refreshing Glasgow night, ears ringing with excessive decibels.