The stage is set – and at the moment, locked behind a metal shutter – a little way off from the bar. In comparison, it’s dark and slightly stuffy. Setting the tone for basically what happens over the next hour or so are Velocities. The sound is cramped and the keys and backing vocals aren’t heard whatsoever. It doesn’t bode well, does it? Amusingly, the drummer can spin his drumsticks, only, being the drummer, he’s so far back that unless you stand in the right spot, you can’t see him. Every now and again, a little sliver of backing vocals – provided by keyboardist/violinist – can just be heard, and it’s sweet and complimentary, it just isn’t heard much. And she looks utterly bored and as though she’d definitely prefer to be somewhere else. Behind me, someone in the very small crowd tries to clap along but it swiftly dies away. The violin, sadly, is hardly heard at all. It isn’t helped that another of the bands on this evening are talking too loudly. It’s a bit of a tight squeeze on that stage. More than once, the bassist almost impales the keyboardist’s head. Between songs, the band have a habit of fannying and faffing and doing their own thing, but overall, they’re enjoyable.
Thanks to some excessive smoke from the bane of every photographer’s lives – the dreaded smoke machine – Big Dirty Ride are practically invisible. And there’s some sound problems with the microphone. Once the music does get going, it’s actually really cool… until the vocals start. He’s trying far too hard to emulate Liam Gallagher, and ignoring him is difficult. And the backing vocals may as well be non-existent. If you have to ask your mates to come forward and dance, you know you’re doing something wrong. The lead singer picks up a harmonica and immediately starts to sound like Thomas the bloody Tank Engine. Big Dirty Ride’s sound is incredibly dated, and the harmonies aren’t in tune with each other. I almost hate to break to you, but it’s not 1996 anymore. Oh, and if you’re reading this, guys, it was me that told you to shut up. Having loud, beery conversations with your band mates during another band’s set is just plain rude.
Single By Sunday are a young and lively bunch! Suddenly the average age of the crowd drops several years. They kick off with ‘Superhero’, a tune early Busted would have been proud of, and maybe even a touch jealous of. I can imagine them – like the once cool Uncle, if you will – looking on and smiling, and perhaps wishing they were this cool. But Single By Sunday are so much more, and so much better at it, in all honestly. They’ve somehow managed to combine Busted with Blink 182 and All Time Low without any of it sounding forced or false. The crowd are livelier too, dancing almost instantly and singing along, and generally, having a great time. Mind you, the majority, if not all of the previous crowds have vanished entirely. The band seem to be having a blast, too, which is great to see.
They’re basically just four guys having a great time and sounding pretty awesome as they do. “There’s a lot of jumping in this song,” lead singer Josh announces before ‘Atom Bomb’ begins. Once again “Uncle” Busted would be beaming with pride – “Look what we did!” they’d say. Then again, perhaps not. As before, it’s nowhere even close to being as contrived. Instead, it’s much more natural and a lot more fun. They bring together the greatest elements of pop – the stuff that makes it so damn good – but there’s also a healthy helping of punk in there, too. They have so much energy, I can’t help but feel a bit jealous.
During a couple of songs – ‘Girl Next Door’ and ‘Romeo’ – both Josh and rhythm guitarist Jonny wander into the crowd, let loose briefly and heads back. It’s nice to see, and while I applaud their efforts, a much larger audience is needed for that. ‘I Can’t Go On Like This’ is more subdued than the other tracks on their set, whilst their second single ‘Get Up Get Out’ – dubbed their most pop-punk track – blisters throughout. Single By Sunday are energetic, and it’s catching; they have plenty to go around!
I see absolutely no reason why Single By Sunday shouldn’t enjoy the same degree of success that Busted enjoyed, but perhaps in a much more organic and natural way. Don’t be fooled into thinking Single By Sunday is just another Busted, though. They’re so much more, and blatantly have more to come up their collective sleeves. They very obviously have what it takes – and other people are noticing. Being tipped by Jim Gellatly is no small thing around these parts! Single By Sunday are definitely one of the most exciting young pop bands to come out of Glasgow right now.
Photo credit: Clare Ballott
