Punch & The Apostles @ The Mill, 17 and 18 Sep

"Just playing fast and loose with Jesus really," comes the deadpan response from Paul Napier, lead singer of Glaswegian septet Punch and the Apostles. The question, of course, was referring to their unusual band name. "It's up to other people to read into it," he continues when pushed to develop his explanation. "We view the Bible as a comedic text: instead of a tragic figure, we see Jesus as a Benny Hill-type figure. He's got some pretty good soundbites."

Napier's monotone conversation is miles from his more choral work. In fact, he's so impassive, it's difficult to know whether he's being wholly irreverent or taking the piss. As he continues to give his views on modern music, though, it seems likely to be a combination of both.

"Music died in 1943! After Edith Piaf's fifth marriage things really started to go downhill."

I'm speaking to Napier and his bandmate, bassist Rory Hayejahans, ahead of their double header at The Mill this month. "Paul thinks all music is dead at the moment," explains Hayejahans later in the conversation. But it's obvious that despite having played the local scene in this incarnation for just six months, Punch and the Apostles ain't impressed.

"The bands getting talked about are not the bands that I'm interested in. But at the same time there are some friends of ours that are starting to get some exposure and do well, but there's really nothing I'm much interested in in Glasgow."

Napier's assessment, however, is slightly more condemning. "In Glasgow, the vast majority is based on a copycat scene," he asserts, "there's this whole 80s thing, where people get a synthesiser and play dance music. If Franz Ferdinand are doing well, they start playing angular guitar pop. It's very rarely you see a band you like, I can't remember the last time I did. Well, maybe Super Adventure Club. We played with them last week, they're good."

Listening to the songs Punch and the Apostles have made available on MySpace would lead you to conclude that they're the latest in a line of ragamuffin bohemian types: hung up on polka and romanticism. Napier however, is unimpressed. "In a way that sort of characterisation has gained a precedence that's not warranted, there are four or five [tracks] that could be regarded as Eastern European, but it's not the main influence that runs through our music."

Despite their rejection of it, though, it's not an assessment the band are uncomfortable with. We can call them whatever we want we're told, as long as we're listening to their music. The problem is; how do they reach us? P & tA have released their debut single on local imprint Lucky Number Nine and plan a similar release for single number two in the near future. With enough material recorded for two albums, however, the band is starting to think long term.

"Well, record labels are just crumbling edifices. There's not much behind them and they're not interested in putting money and effort behind developing bands. Nobody's buying fucking records anyway. So we're probably going to have to do it ourselves; play lots of shows and put our work out."

Napier's appraisal of the industry is almost as scathing as his evaluation of the Glasgow scene. Disgruntled, aye, but far from disillusioned. At a time when labels are warier than ever over having their fingers burnt, P & tA realise their unique and unconventional compositions represent a high risk, but remain undeterred.

"If we wanted to be millionaires we would've sold nuclear arms or pharmaceuticals. If you wanna be a millionaire, stay away from the music business right now. These people are unscrupulous bastards!" The band are determined, then, to stick by their guns and continue making intelligent and uncompromising music safe in the knowledge that Punch and the Apostles aren't going to be lining the pockets of any man in a suit just yet.