Okkervil River @ Òran Mór, 9 Nov

Okkervil River's greatest moment yet is the seventh song of their fourth album, Black Sheep Boy. Halfway through tonight’s show, Will Sheff ushers his bandmates off-stage so he can perform A Stone almost-solo, so he can cultivate lumps in all our throats by explaining, through perfectly poised poetry, how baffling spurned affection can be; because love doesn’t behave as it should. Then, a trumpet heralds the arrival of something in my neck: so that’s what that expression means. But let’s not forget the overall quality of that album, nor the two since, and don’t mistake Okkervil’s smarts for rigidity: they’re more often flamboyant than reflective tonight. Unless It‘s Kicks’ riff is inspired by Bo Diddley‘s thrusting rhythms, and Sheff on-stage is a snaking hip and a swollen lip away from Mick Jagger; so they can rock, alright; but it’s A Stone which makes this show special. [Ally Brown]