Bulleit Sessions @ Maggie May's, 10 Apr

Dysfunctional is an overused word, particularly in relation to individuals, families, bands – anything that involves humans seems to qualify on a regular basis. It’s worth remembering, then, that it’s also possible to be functional, highly so in fact. And it is the contrast between these extremes that makes this evening so strange and so exciting.

However, it would be too easy to stick a one-dimensional category (‘that works, that doesn’t’) to any of tonight’s performers; it is in the way that each act veers between the functional and the dysfunctional that the drama is created, and the contrast between each of their styles only heightens the effect.

Found (SSS) are known for making good use of eclecticism and off-the-wall approaches, so it’s with surprised hindsight that they stand-out as the most ‘normal’ of the evening’s performances. At times they sound great, and there are elements of their songs that bring to mind everything from soul classics to Daft Punk. With a crowd just settling, their alternative take on folk doesn’t quite capture the occasion, but it’s clear their devoted fans (and new label-hosts the Fence Collective) know a good thing when they hear it.

In fact, the evening is something of a Fife-gang hoedown, with quality DJ sets and slightly awkward compère-ing from King Creosote and Pictish Trail, as well as The Aliens later on. So it is that the very professionalism of genuine blues legend Guitar Shorty (SSS) adds the most surreal element to what is otherwise a ramshackle Scottish get-together. Moments of his set of extreme guitar showmanship are truly astonishing, from his opening ‘yes, I am who you heard about’ salvo to an incredible (if fairly brief) noise workout to match the intensity of the likes of Whitehouse. Other passages are entirely devoid of emotion. For the playful stuff, like playing the guitar with his bum, this isn’t such a problem: that’s just a granddad goofing around (this guy is a cited influence on Hendrix, lest we forget), and no harm in it. No, the problem’s in the extended solos, that almost represent a beautiful outpouring of vital pain and pleasure, but which ultimately just come across as someone going through the ropes; with someone as esteemed as Shorty, the stakes feel so high the coolness is almost horrible. Still, when all is taken into account it’s a hell of a show, and a pleasure to have seen the guy.

The Aliens (SSSS) seem on the point of breakdown throughout their set, and even finish by telling us we may have witnessed the last Aliens set. Let’s hope not, because between equipment failures and bouts of love/hate banter with the crowd, there’s enough to make clear that these guys are one of the most exceptionally talented bands around. Sounding like a cross between the Brian Jonestown Massacre and the Beatles, they play driven passages of feedback and melody that are truly transporting. A more coherent gig would be a more appropriate context to theorise The Aliens, but on tonight’s evidence it’s clear that they are both the real deal and something special. Let’s hope they hang around to inspire us some more.