Adult Jazz @ The Hug & Pint, Glasgow, 21 Oct

Adult Jazz are full of apologies tonight. It naturally follows on from their latest album, So Sorry So Slow, named after an eight-year gap between releases. Tonight is their first show in two years. Before that, they hadn’t played for seven. They’re nervous, and offer this up by way of explanation. They give thanks and apologies to Dave on sound and to us for being here. They’ve forgotten how to soundcheck, and fumble through instrument changes. Harry Burgess straddles a cello while Tim Slater explains that there might be mistakes, but at least that’ll make the show unique, right?  

And after he does, they perform a flawless and emotional version of Suffer One like they have nothing to worry about. This version highlights their appeal – the tight performances, the surprising shifts in tone, and the weight of Burgess’s raw lyrics, often obscured behind a complex arrangement. 

Before this, duo Burd Ellen set the tone with enveloping drone inversions of folk tunes. Live, the tension is in how they wrestle with unruly hardware on the fly. After setting a sound loose, they oversee the technology as it twists and warps. Live vocal loops become distorted chants, and strings morph into a texture. Old tales become haunted fragments bleeding through time. The highlight is Bushes and Briars from the Look to Imber compilation, where Debbie Armour’s voice peeks through the murk in a tumbling wail. 

Armour is honoured to support Adult Jazz. She says it’s a childhood dream come true. We’ll soon see her crying in the front. Adult Jazz often create magic, but they’re also fans of pulling the rug. 2014’s Gist Is did so with winding structures and ugly noise. Earrings Off! drifted away from anything indie-rock into weirdo experiments closer to what Max Tundra made years before, or what Jerskin Fendrix would make years after. They still have no obvious contemporaries. While that has made it hard for them to sustain a consistent output, tonight underlines their power when the magic strikes. 

Their first ever single Am Gone still sounds fresh, skirting off in odd directions while Burgess’s vocal keeps the emotional tempo. The repellant and hilarious Ooh Ah Eh leads to a lot of shuffling in the room. The sickly trombones and gurgled vocals pop awkwardly around the basement, but half the audience is smiling at least.

But it’s the material from the band’s latest record that feels most assured, especially on Marquee, where the song’s sweetness and intensity are felt even stronger, or on Dusk Song, where the central anxiety becomes unsettling in a crowd. These moments make you hope for a bright new chapter, where through their off-putting charm and secret beauty, they keep on creating. Even through the stumbling, Adult Jazz are on firm ground.