And the Lord looked down upon the backwoods that is Coatbridge and decided that something good would come of that hellhole of indolence even if said something good would only ever be good as long as they stayed outside the boundaries of Lanarkshire.
And so it was that Superbad Comrade took to the stage of the 13th Note in dear old Glasgow town. Fronted by a closet perfectionist, they were powered by the kind of energy that The View used to have back in the day and often threatened to escape the gravitational pull of the indie rock black hole. A good song is a good song, after all, and all it takes is skill and imagination to make it a great song.
Dropping even further back in time for their influences were Saint Sécaire with a Jim Morrison style fixation leading them to the very cusp of seventies style androgynous rock and the eternal hell of important haircuts. It’s an attitude thing, you see, and if you don’t have that attitude then it just won’t float and the ship that is Saint Sécaire duly headed out of port with a full cargo of trend following songs.
As if having the best name ever for a band wasn’t enough, Voodoo Mind Control exceeded expectations by transcending their indie rock roots and heading off on a voyage of discovery into femme pop with the voice of Helen Farrow-Thoms steering a steady course all the way. If only they were French then they would have been perfect but the audience clearly didn’t have the same limitation in their noisy appreciation of this band.
So to matters of etiquette and fashion. What does a woman do when a girl half her age is wearing the same dress as her? Trump her with white stilettoes. As in all things, it’s easy when you know how.