By Kevin Scott
While 177,000 gathered in Glastonbury over the weekend a slightly more moderate crowd of under a thousand gathered in the west end of Glasgow for The Wee Chill - a one day festival set across two stages of the impressive SWG3 arts venue. It was the event’s 10th birthday and as such, the bill was impressive.
Early comers were treated to sets from up and coming acts such as Clair Tierney, Sarah Hayes, Daniel Meade, Grant Campbell and Pride.
Unfortunately, as they plied their musical trade, I was hot footing across the city in an attempt to get something to eat, meet my friend, and get there as soon as possible.
We arrived in time for The People, who were playing in the larger Factory stage, their brand of country erring closer to traditional than alternative. The harmonies on the band were impressive and they excelled when they upped the volume on the electric guitars and went for it. Ones to watch, for sure.
Next up was a trip downstairs to the tiny Poetry Club where the hotly tipped Fake Major were proving popular enough that the venue was completely crammed full. The band sounded more confident than the last time I saw them (supporting Quickbeam at Govanhill Baths) but this may be due to the venue size, and a far superior sound.
The band’s indie-folk is upbeat and memorable, with Richard Ferguson and David McGintity having an uncanny ability to write a great pop hook into every song, typified by the awesome Little Researcher.
As any festival goer will tell you, clashes are the most frustrating aspect of any event and even on something as small scale as The Wee Chill, something had to give. It did add an element of pleasure to the occasion though as people poured over pictures they’d taken of the set-times and decided who to see. For me, there was only one way to go next - sorry Roddy Hart, but a rare spoken word set from Aidan Moffat is not be missed. Kicking off by reading a negative review of his spoken word album ‘I Can Hear Your Heart,’ he continued with a mainly comical set of short poems and reworked Arab Strap lyrics. The packed crowd laughed along as if it was a stand up gig, and there was universal praise for the one sung piece of the night - a lament on his heterosexuality preventing him from fucking some of Hollywood’s leading men.
The next decision was trickier, but while Malcolm Middleton took to the stage in the Poetry Club, I took myself back to the Factory for James Yorkston and Sparrow and the Workshop’s debut collaborative set. Having released one of my favourite albums of the year in Murderopolis, the latter are on spanking form right now, and by teaming up with Yorkston - a key player in the Fence Collective - hopes were high.
Yorkston played bass throughout, something he joked he hadn’t done in 15 years, and formed a sold partnership with Sparrow’s drummer Gregor Donaldson. A violinist completed the quarter, who embarked on a set featuring a number of new collaborative songs, a killer performance of Sparrow’s darkly haunting ‘Valley of Death’ and a couple of covers - spectacular versions of Erasure’s ‘Respect’ and Donna Summer’s ‘I Feel Love’, both slowed down, rearranged and oozing with sultriness.
For a collaboration claiming not much rehearsal time the band was tight, the rhythm section backing Jill O’Sullivan’s guitar, leaving the violin to add depth in just the right places. And for a man used to playing acoustic sets, Yorkston was comfortable, confident and thoroughly enjoying being plugged in and playing loud.
Live, Sparrow vocalist Jill O’Sullivan’s voice is every bit as impressive as it sounds on record; it has a velvet-coated country exquisiteness to it and she contrasted with Yorkston’s soft Scottish lilt to provide harmonies with a genuine punch.
It was a knee-weakening performance, loud and fast enough to show that folk can rock when it wants to. If there’s an album on the horizon, I hope it hurries up.
I could happily have gone home at that point, but it was time to squeeze back into The Poetry Club for Miaoux Miaoux. Good move. It was the highlight of day. An electric set formed from last year’s Light of the North album. The room, packed all day, was bursting at the sides as the crowd jostled for dancing position. The atmosphere peaked during a heavy version of ‘Stop the Clocks’ and didn’t let up until the crowd, dripped with sweat, began to move out.
Some went home, but most headed back upstairs to see factory headliners Three Blind Wolves round the night off with an electrifying set. The Glaswegian four-piece, who play a style of bluesy-rock more commonly found on the other side of the Atlantic, owned the stage. It was loud, it was frantic and it was a strong end to the days.
Overall the event was a huge success, the line-up showing just how strong the Glasgow music scene is at the moment. The two-stage format worked well though putting the hugely popular Malcolm Middleton in the smaller venue seemed a strange decision. That one tiny little mark off, The Wee Chill was the best day Glasgow’s seen this year - and The Stone Roses played the city a fortnight ago.
