Cold Turkey's Festive Frolic @ Summerhall, Edinburgh, 8 Dec

Opening the annual Summerhall Cold Turkey event is the glamourous and hilarious Gemma Cairney. She introduces the night's festivities with an infectious laugh and invites to the stage Edinburgh’s beloved Michael Pedersen. The self-crowned Cat Prince, better known as the author of the poetry anthology of the same name and critically acclaimed memoir Boy Friends, performs a selection of his poetry and, true to form, he masterfully navigates that all-but-invisible line between the heart-wrenchingly devastating and devastatingly hilarious. Expertly weaving between such topics as constipation, seafood and being the ‘weird kid who thought he was a cat’, he uses these as a vessel through which to explore love, loss and friendship.

Indeed, these seem to be themes of the night, with Pedersen’s set followed by a short video of the first ever Cold Turkey event, co-organised by the late Scott Hutchison of Frightened Rabbit. It's a moving clip, noticeably bringing audience members to tears as they watch a joyful performance, full of laughter and Christmas spirit. Less than a year later he would pass in tragic circumstances, but his friendship and inspiration are honoured by those friends who continue to run the event in his memory.

Image: Michael Pedersen @ Cold Turkey's Festive Frolic by Kat Gollock

Up next is Dundonian singer-songwriter Be Charlotte. From her strong performance, you'd never guess that she'd stepped in to replace Charlotte Church with less than 12 hours notice. She more than makes up for her lack of a Christmas jumper (“I’m still wearing what I left the house in this morning!” she explains, not that anyone minds) with an entertaining rendition of The Pogues' Fairytale of New York, inspiring a festive singalong amongst the audience. Poet Hollie McNish follows, ruminating on dead grandparents and their ongoing presence in their lives (not watching us wank, she clarifies). She is off the wall, but her poetry carries a real pathos that has the audience in tears and stitches. 

Closing the night is Dan Willson, aka Withered Hand, whose emotional set is perhaps not best positioned in the lineup as the audience have, by this time, perhaps overindulged in festive cheer and seem to talk over Willson’s heartfelt meditations on Christmas as an outside observer. “Did you know a kid that used to tell people Santa wasn’t real? Well that was me…” the singer, raised a Jehovah’s Witness, laughs. He gets through an emotional set despite the chatter, and the night ends with a Christmas disco, akin to a school Christmas party.