Just under a week on from my last visit to the venue for a varied four band bill headlined by the excellent Tanzana (whose presence was noted at this gig, along with members of the mighty Sister Madds and one of my tips for 2025, Alcatraz (whose appearance in Tuts last week I unfortunately missed) among others) it was time for another visit and another pick ‘n’ mix selection of genres.
Opening act, Marf., started off their accomplished bluesy rock set with a track exuding a smooth jazzy charm. As their set progressed, so did the intense power and energy of their music, all topped with a compellingly potent and soulful vocal from the first Martha of the evening, before closing out their set with an impressive version of Gorillaz Feel Good Inc. Later in the evening it was the turn of Human Renegade, playing a kind of mash up of genres that largely passed me by at the height of their popularity (it’s an age thing…) mixing metalcore with a touch of emo, somewhere between Bring Me the Horizon and Taking Back Sunday, their infectious set closing with, to my ears, their best song, the catchy Emo.
Apart from the night’s headliners, the highlight of the night was the raucous maelstrom created by punk quartet Count The Days. I’m pretty sure if you looked up the term whirling dervish in the dictionary all that would appear is a picture of their lead singer/guitarist Div Walls. Their song 24 hours sounded like The Undertones on both steroids and speed, while debut single Above You (previously featured in a GQ singles round up) was an unstoppable powerhouse creating one of many chaotic pits within the compact venue, they also impressed with upcoming new single Springbank Road, a song about growing up in Paisley. With so many young bands like this and Soapbox plying their trade these days it’s time to have some new Scottish blood injected into the increasingly tired line up of the annual old codgers punk fest that is Scotland Calling. Forget about raising the roof, Count the Days riotous punk rock ripped through the venue like a ferocious hurricane.
The first time I came across Martha May and the Mondays was as part of the Filthy Tongues Dark Places festival in Glasgow’s Stereo, where they fitted in perfectly, and from speaking to several people on the night, gained a whole lot of new fans. Apart from an impromptu appearance by Martha with Sister MADDs on the Tuts stage last year, this was the first time I’ve managed to see the band again since that night in Stereo, and while I was obviously impressed by them the first time I saw them, this latest performance showed a real progression in the bands sound and stagecraft, with the quintet putting in a flawless performance.
Like last weeks headliners, the band kicked off in style with a cover version they totally owned, the rest of the band joining in with the initial lone fiddle and romping through an anarchic version of Electric Six’s Gay Bar, Martha appearing onstage in black jacket which was quickly cast aside to reveal a fabulous scarlet lurex cat suit.
The band were impeccable throughout the rabble rousing set, Martha clearly having a blast as she bantered with the crowd, teasing them, borrowing a beanie and launching herself onto the heaving mass of bodies after giving several warnings earlier in the set, a set that was packed out with highlights from the bands burgeoning back catalogue. Despite them only having been releasing songs for a couple of years the depth and quality of the songwriting is exceptional, Beware of the Black Dog an entirely relatable case in point.
When a band who are, in the grand scheme of things, still relatively as “new” as this, has such an array of top tunes to select their set from it makes it nigh on impossible to pick highlights, but in an all killer no filler set, Tennis was an absolute blast, along with “my sisters favourite song” Truman, Gold with its deeply resonant bass and fiddle, and the loud and lairy Spit! I could go on…
If you know what’s good for you, you’ll seek out the next Martha May and The Mondays gig and lose yourself in the folky tinged Velvet Underground meets Patti Smith trashy NYC punk funk with a touch of a heavy Stooges-esque thunder with a frontwoman who has the vim, vigour, vitality and larger than life stage presence of a punk rock Lady Gaga. Miss them, miss out.