Perfume Genius @ SWG3, Glasgow, 8 Nov

It seems to have become something of a tradition that each Perfume Genius record is better than the last, and Glory is no exception. Mike Hadreas’ musical evolution has always been driven by curiosity: a desire to find new textures and to twist familiar sounds into something stranger. This latest album features flute trills, pedal steel, fretless guitar and flashes of organ. It’s a peculiar and searching palette. Despite this, the record also showcases some of his most straight-up, 'rock band' sound to date, and lyrics that are perhaps Hadreas’ most emotionally devasting (a high bar to clear in the Perfume Genius discography).

The result is a collection of songs that feel made for live performance – Glory's energy translates thrillingly well to the SWG3 stage. He kicks things off with In a Row, the wry claustrophobic song painting a picture of someone suffering for their art, locked in the boot of a car, 'feeling every bump'. It deserves its place at the top of the show: 'Think of all the poems I’ll get out', he sings, a mission statement of sorts. The creeping instrumentation of the song serves as a soft launch for his terrific live band, who kick into high gear for the double header that follows: It’s a Mirror and No Front Teeth. The latter goes harder than anything else in the setlist, washing the room with noise and giving the band a chance to show what they can really do.

Perfume Genius on stage at SWG3, Glasgow. Photo: Elliot Hetherton 

The stage setup is sparse: just the band and a basic wooden chair that Hadreas occasionally pulls front and centre, breathing new life into the ordinary object like only he can. Draping himself across it for some songs, his sparkly sheer shirt simultaneously catches the light and every eye in the room. Hadreas cuts a stunning figure; aware of his visual impact and gifted at contorting himself into modelesque poses, he almost invites you to photograph him, but very few do, they are too transfixed. Phones are a reassuring rarity; the room is hushed and locked in.

Before a stint at the piano, Hadreas announces: “I’m trying to do some banter, this might be a good opportunity...?” before dropping the idea and playing some of the night’s most heart-wrenching songs, including a delicate, unsettling cover of Dillard & Clark’s Polly. Later, he returns to the thought: “I’m still thinking about my banter… but I’ll just end up saying too much and telling you about my butthole or something. Okay, well, that’s the banter I guess,” he laughs.

While the bulk of tonight’s set is pulled from Glory, highlights from previous records are given their moment in the spotlight too. On the Floor from 2020’s Set My Heart on Fire Immediately loosens the crowd, while Describe, from the same album, builds into an ecstatic racket. The encore features his take on Mazzy Star’s Fade Into You, and the originally woozy track is delivered in sharper focus: tender, luminous, unmistakably Perfume Genius-y.

Hadreas has long been one of pop’s sharpest chroniclers of the queer experience and, more broadly, of the uneasy space between a person’s inner world and their outer self. Despite the evening’s songs often dwelling on things like shame, ageing, desire and the looming shadow of mortality, the mood of the night is very much catharsis rather than despair. This is probably best represented by 2014 defiant anthem Queen, which he closes with. The triumphant retort to homophobia ('No family is safe when I sashay / Don’t you know your queen?') plays out over twinkly synths and emphatic drums. It’s a rousing end to a show that captures its audience completely.