Homecoming Live: The Final Fling @ SECC, 28 Nov
The Final Fling marks the end of the year's Homecoming festivities, showcasing some of the finest musical talent the country has to offer. Stalwarts such as Deacon Blue and Midge Ure are set to warm up the presumably more reserved homecoming pilgrims over in The Armadillo, but over in Hall 2, it's a slightly more raucous affair.
The hall takes its time to fill up, but as we wait, the rather dapper Codeine Velvet Club - featuring Fratelli's front-man John Lawler - offer a welcome change of pace, getting the early birds dancing with a surprisingly entertaining chunk of raunchy big band grooves and flawless crooning.
Tonight's rather ambitious line-up runs like a gauntlet of short sets and sound problems, but as The Twilight Sad hit the stage, aware that they aren't here for long, they utilize every second, turning their slot into a spellbinding display of murky noise and savage beauty; James Graham's haunting vocals spew out amid convulsions and anguished cries, dropping many a jaw and no doubt scaring the kids.
Time rolls on and The Vaselines are soon faced with a considerably inebriated audience. However, taking this in their stride, along with the fact that the majority of the crowd are half their age, the legendary double-team of Eugene Kelly and Frances McKee coast through dodgy guitars and general crowd bemusement to cruise through classics such as Molly's Lips and You Think You're A Man with irresistible charm.
Taking the mood down even further, half-man, half-accordion, King Creosote offers a very brief glimpse into his burgeoning back catalogue. The soaring harmonies of KC and wing-man, Johnny 'The Pictish Trail' Lynch decorate a sublime foray into more folky territory here tonight, which manages to achieve respectable (and much-deserved) applause from the now teeming masses.
The biggest response so far comes as a considerably hirsute Roddy Woomble leads Idlewild through a condensed set of some of the band's 'greatest hits'. Prompting a few gutsy singalongs along the way, everything from Roseability to No Emotion goes down a treat, despite catching the occasional wandering pint.
The longest set of the night bar the headliners, Teenage Fanclub rely heavily on the patience of a crowd predominantly here to see The View and lob beer at everyone else. In the end, they get a bit of both, weaving through tracks like Don't Look Back and Everything Flows with flawless precision but taking a few cups to the head for the efforts. However, this does little to deter Bellshill's finest and they push on with perseverance and humour, pleasing just about everyone else.
Judging by the persistent, night-long chants of "The View, The View, The View Are On Fire" it comes as no surprise that the crowd goes ape shit when said Dundonians take the stage in the wash of pissed-up noise that is Wasted Little DJs. The View are perhaps not the most obvious headliners for a bill that features so many decorated heroes of Scotland's musical lineage, but in terms of sheer energy, these four are pretty much unrivaled tonight.