Live Reviews

  Destroy White Baby Dolls, Chris Glen, Preacher, Homesick Aldo live at Pivo Pivo in Glasgow

“Are you good in bed?” she says.  “Sure am. I sleep seven or eight hours normally!” Frankly, I didn’t think my evening was going to get any better. That was until I paid a visit to Pivo Pivo, where a cracking bill (and a fine selection of drinks) made sure that I would sleep very well.

Preacher started the evening in good stead with a tight set of blues-tinged progressive rock. Impressing as much with their songs as with their delivery, this Ayrshire quintet clearly know the game well. Fine melodies and confidence make for a likeable performance, after all. On a different note, saying “I’m off to see Preacher” sounds good to Christians. Little do they know, huh?

Homesick Aldo is the sort of guy that should get a standing ovation every time he walks into a room. Boasting funny hair and a ridiculous mastery of the harmonica, this young lad made a wonderful racket in his short time onstage. With his harmonica and his beat-boxing, Aldo channelled the sounds of Sonny Terry and Duster Bennett – with a bit of Sonny Boy Williamson thrown in for good measure – with frightening alacrity. In short, he’s good. Go see for yourself.

Next came one of Glasgow’s singer-songwriter types in the shape of Chris Glen. Dividing his time between Glasgow and Aberdeen, he still somehow finds the time to fit in the odd performance. Thankfully his songs concern more than just train journeys. On this evidence, he’ll continue to get the gigs. What you’d call a “reliable” artist.

All-girl band! Sorry, that’d be Destroy White Baby Dolls. Having made waves previously in Glasgow, this foursome is back – and seemingly, they mean business. Music in Glasgow needs the occasional kick in the ass, and these girls – yes, you read it right – might be the ones to do it. Catchy, punky, girly – it’s easy to throw superlatives at this band. However, you, the reader, could do one better and catch one of their shows.
And that was Saturday night. Call me crazy, but the moon was smiling. Even got involved in a non-football sing-a-long on the bus ride home. Perhaps there is hope for Glasgow after all. Then again…

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