Not everyone gets away on holiday. With the economy as it is in Britain right now, we're lucky to get alcohol. As such, one must do anything in one's power to see DeVotchka. Blending mariachi sounds with an obscure indie tinge, this band can do little wrong.
You have to be a powerful live act to have someone like Dawn Kinnard beneath you on the bill. This striking blonde from Pennsylvania has all the makings of an American Dusty Springfield; confident in her delivery, cute as a baby lamb, wise beyond her age. Accompanied by her acoustic guitar and a keyboardist, Dawn went right for the hearts of the audience with such tracks as "Pennsylvania". Dawn has already amassed a great deal of positive press in the UK, and it's quite obvious that this girl's future lies in sold-out arenas. This girl will go far. Music's gotta have soul, and this girl exudes it.
The State Broadcasters came next, and seemed to enjoy themselves. When not singing delightful ditties about erections, they boasted about flying high in the Belarusian charts. Were they to be believed? A set of dawdling alt-folk songs that will linger in the mind like a drunken memory suggest that this band can go places too should they decide to take themselves seriously. The multi-instrumental talents of Fergus McDonald really stood out and it was pointed out that they have only just recruited a bassist. This band are developing nicely and surely bound for bigger things.
Then came DeVotchka. Rarely will you hear such a musically diverse show. Blaring trumpet, rude-sounding sousaphone, shrieking violin - this band have been around the block a few times, and have got more than just a few souvenirs from their travels. Having featured on the Little Miss Sunshine soundtrack, it's hardly surprising that they've achieved a cult following, but is there appeal beyond that?
Indubitably, yes! The band's exotic sound was heightened by the haunting wails of singer Nick Urata, whose modest facade belied his tremendous ability. Such was true of every band member. At times you could feel a million miles from home, in a vast, vacant desert. In between swigs from a bottle of red wine, Urata led his band through song after song of cultured splendour.
The demand for the encore (try saying "no encore" to a group of mentalist Glaswegians) was testament to the band's performance, and they let no one down with a few tracks from their latest album.
Tonight saw three very different acts stake their claim for fame, and congratulations to anyone who was there from the start. Three bands that you're unlikely to see in such a small venue again.