It’s like an addiction. An addiction or perhaps an affliction. An affliction that leads me like a drunk to the donner kebab into the basements of Glasgow in search of the meaning of life. This time, transported temporarily into a land of red lights, black flock wallpaper and mirrors, the answer was sought from Danny Davis, Holly Ogilvie and Sara Douglas.
So, first up was Danny Davis. Neat of haircut and polished until he was shiny, he didn’t look old enough to know what a cassette was but he did know what a nice little pop song was and, armed with the sage counsel of his acoustic guitar, he made all the right crowd pleasing moves.
Next up was Holly Ogilvie. Despite some obvious creative differences with not one but two guitars, Holly Ogilvie nonetheless used her voice effectively to throw her heart at the audience. A young heart perhaps but one smart enough to know that a Bon Iver song could advertise her talent as well as her own words could.
Last on was Sara Douglas. Clearly on an arc to a publishing deal, she also possessed the kind of unburstable voice that would normally be the prerogative of a blues rock singer. With her two too good to be from Glasgow on stage sidekicks, she whooped up a storm, or at least she would have if it had been Friday night and this weren’t a basement too small for such a thing. Sara Douglas showed that she had what it takes so job done and job done well, as they say.
Anyway, where am I? Oh, now I’m in a 24 hour Asda. Four pints of milk and a packet of ‘Chosen By You’ Habaneros Chilli Peanuts later, the meaning of life was no clearer but at least I now have something for breakfast.