Live Reviews


  The Fortunate Sons, Lee Patterson and Chris Blair live at The Admiral Bar in Glasgow



You can take a Bluesbunny to pastures new but you can't stop him drinking. So to the Admiral Bar I went in search of music and rum. Yes, they had both! Better yet, the Fortunate Sons were launching their album!

Chris Blair is no stranger to Glasgow but always seems to play second fiddle to other bands and artists. Almost drowning in a sea of ignorance, Blair's delicate delivery and confident songs slowly began to win over the crowd as his set progressed. It's a shame that people apparently come to live shows to blether because Blair's set was worthy of attention.

More attention was commanded by Lee Patterson who effectively tattooed his name on the audience with an utterly compelling showing. "Your Close Friend" was a haunting affair while "Who's Your Daddy" was as much Elvis as it was the Sex Pistols - the former utilised a washboard and the latter used only an acoustic guitar to accompany Patterson's primitive holler. Patterson's unique rendition of "I'm Workin' on a Building" - which saw him use his microphone stand as percussion - was worth the entrance fee alone. Acts like Lee Patterson don't come about very often. A class act.

The Fortunate Sons have been turning heads around Glasgow for the past three years. It seems now that they are going places. Ironically they seem to have become style icons. But it wasn't about style tonight. It was about the music.

Rooted deeply in rhythm and blues, this Glasgow group have succeeded in rejuvenating roots music, albeit on a local level, and this was proven tonight. A tightly-knit act, their years of honing their music have clearly paid off. Pop sensibility shone through on "Poets", while "She Comes Around" felt like a blend of blues and celtic influences. The band repeatedly took their enthusiasm to the crowd, much to their delight. "This Train" was frantic and exciting and a version of "Folsom Prison Blues" ensured that the audience would get no sleep.

Satisfied with the events of the evening, I decided to call it a night, finding a pint of Guinness en route to the bus station.



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