I remember one summer many years ago a man named Kevin from the wilds of America, came to stay at my house. He was a friend of a friend, and it was a bit awkward to be honest, having this bearded person sitting in my kitchen all the time. Making conversation one day, I remember being staggered to discover that he had come to Scotland to visit Glasgow, solely because he wanted to experience the ‘famous’ Glasgow band scene. A few years later, becoming a ‘proper’ musician myself, I again encountered the startling international reputation of this one wee city, when I was booked to play a show in Japan by the promotions company ‘Office Glasgow’, which exists almost exclusively to put on shows by Glasgow-based bands in Japan.
I’ve often wondered why this might be. (Apart from the obvious – the list of a million amazing bands over the past 30 years or so who have been based here!) Over my time playing in bands here – and elsewhere – I can’t escape the conclusion that it’s all about the incredibly friendly atmosphere that pervades musical endeavours and seems to be contagious amongst musicians in Glasgow. That feeling we’ve all felt at one time or another, that music is some kind of competition, to be won only by bitching and back-stabbing and elbowing small children out of the way, seems to be beaten down by the opinion that we’re all in this together, and that a wee beer and some friendly chat about what we’re up to is bound to be more conducive to creativity.
At least, that’s what I hope is the answer! I’ve seen it many times – when members of Snow Patrol, Belle and Seb, Arab Strap, Astrid, met at a Lou Barlow gig, had some beers and hatched a plan to make the first Reindeer Section album. As when the Monday night Open Mic at Nice n’ Sleazy weekly hosted the most awful of amateur crooners alongside visiting stars like Elliott Smith, Stevie Jackson, Damon Gough, Gary Lightbody, and yet everyone got the same uproarious applause. Actually, it was there that I made friends with guitarist Gareth Dickson, who then made friends with Vashti Bunyan, and she eventually took us all off on tour round the world with her.
Now, I can’t say that these kinds of things don’t seem to happen elsewhere. But I think I can say, that where it does happen, the result is something pretty special.
It might have been with this kind of model in mind that last year, the artists who run Hidden Door festival in Edinburgh decided that they would sculpt five stages out of amazing and magical aesthetic things, put them all in a circle facing each other, equip each stage with a full PA, and then unleash 4 Glasgow bands on them at the same time. The Jo Mango band was amazingly lucky enough to be one of those bands, and along with our friends from Tall Tales, Bear Bones and Open Swimmer, we had the opportunity to make our music a collaborative, surround-sound, never-to-be-repeated spectacle.
Now, to be honest, the practical aspects of such an enterprise meant that the sound on each stage was pretty messed up (no offense to the poor, poor soundman who was left in charge of 40 channels!), so it was hard for us to tell what kind of a sound we were producing in the centre of the room. But all of us, as we looked out at the faces of the crowd that squeezed into that round, we saw something we hadn’t ever quite seen before on an audience. People’s faces were literally contorted with what afterwards, thankfully, we discovered was something to do with wonder. There were tears. It was a bit of a ‘moment’.
Cakes, Ice cream and Mocktails...
