The Hug and Pint is a fascinating and friendly little place with a menu I am yet to sample. Downstairs, I find that I’m the only one there – unless you count the two members of staff. For a moment, it’s a little concerning, but I am soon joined by six others, three of whom are on the tiny little stage, setting up – two guys on guitar and a dude with some maracas. Without much further ado, Sweethearts of the Prison Rodeo begin. They have an Americana/folk sound that’s confident, despite a non-existent crowd. There’s also a couple of hipster beards as well as the almost obligatory checked shirts. Their sounds goes from swirling melodies and close vocal harmonies that are somewhat reminiscent of Mumford & Sons. The barman looks terribly bored. ‘Cruel Revenge of Queen Maria’ has a bit of an edge to it and is the second song of the evening to feature the word ‘Fascist’ in the lyrics. Should we be concerned at all?
WOLF, as it turns out is just one woman tonight – namely, Kim Moore – (although there is apparently also usually a drummer). At first, listen, I’m convinced that Bjork is and has been a heavy influence, but WOLF is so much more that. With each passing moment, she manages to become ever more intriguing and beguiling and before you know it, you’re swaying along. With a combination of sparse, dreamy and sugary vocals, a keyboard, a violin and too many pedals and things to count, she manages to create a sound almost too large for the tiny space under the main bar and restaurant that is The Hug and Pint. But very simply, WOLF is incredible and easily the most exciting thing to come out of Glasgow in a long time. I expect to be seeing and hearing more of her/them in the not too distant future.
What follows – Robbie Lesiuk, who appeared with Sweethearts of the Prison Rodeo, and who will also play alongside Adam Stafford on bass – falls flat after the brilliance of WOLF. There’s a real bathos to the proceedings now, the opening track is like a crushing disappointment. And it’s not his fault, either. He’s not terrible, but perhaps he should have followed his own band instead of WOLF. On closer inspection, Lesiuk is a talented musician, and his vocals are akin to Paul Heaton. A large proportion of the crowd appears to have vanished, which isn’t helping.
Adam Stafford is definitely the sharpest-dressed man in the entire venue. It’s his album launch night, so it’s perhaps to be expected. His delicate pickings at his guitar are at odds with the following noise that, in comparison, sound about as delicate as sandpaper. It’s loud with a touch of brashness to the vocals, adding a dangerous, if inviting, edge to his sound. With that edge comes a crystalline clarity and, when added to soaring vocal harmonies provided by Lesiuk, Stafford is a compelling watch. According to Stafford, he might just have tonsillitis – if he hadn’t mentioned it, I doubt anyone would have noticed.
Things are switched up almost immediately after with a raw, harder and sharper edge than before, and are much more upbeat. There’s an urgency to the vocals now, and a few folk are dancing – as is Stafford himself. His fancy footwork is distracting! He is struggling a little with those higher notes – and I suspect that the dreaded tonsillitis might be at play here. But he’s such an enthusiastic and enigmatic performer that it doesn’t detract from anything. Despite feeling unwell – and chugging at a giant glass of fruit juice – he certainly has a lot of energy.
In lieu of a drummer, Stafford plays out and builds up the rhythm section on his guitar (with chopsticks) and a multitude of pedals, buttons and things at his unstoppable feet. The man has the crowd eating out of his hands, too. He’s still struggling with those top notes but it doesn’t seem to matter very much. His inability to stand still is amusing and fascinating to see, breaking a sweat as he does. He’s a really interesting and compelling listen. Lesiuk picks up a thing that sounds part fog horn, part mouth organ, part whale and is a fraction or two at odds with Stafford.
After a particularly grisly tale involving a member of some grindcore band (no, I don’t know what that is either) stabbing himself with a knife on stage – for kicks, apparently – and almost dying as a result comes the most melodic and beautiful song of the set, including a spot of beatboxing. Adam Stafford is one hell of a force and quite possibly one of the best live artists of our times.
Photo credit: The Vinyl Villain
