Randan Discotheque @ Collective Gallery
A varied collection; from love and war to political and religious insights
| 09 Aug 2007
The last in a series of weekly gigs at this gallery sees two acoustic acts complementing an exhibition by Johanna Billing. The Collective Gallery is small and cosy, with a PA system facing directly onto the street through huge windows. It has the feel of a goldfish bowl, though the performers are spared the stress of being on display in the former shop window. Instead, all you can see from the street are the backs of the 50-odd souls who have crammed inside.
Jamie Wallace O'Connor, or 'The Wee Rogue' starts the proceedings, and much of the audience are initially mesmerised by his pure vocals. He sounds at times like King Creosote playing James Orr Complex's guitar. His songs are long, with many exposed, instrumental passages. They come across like Scots ballads, dealing in love and loss of innocence. Awkward chord shapes complement his Fife lilt and there's a sweet progression on I Partnered the Devil.
Craig Coulthard, or Randan Discotheque, has a more varied collection, from love and war to political and religious insights. The songs are split with passages of pre-scripted dialogue, providing snapshots of his psyche and hinting at influences and relationships. The Prince Must Go To Iraq raises much laughter but many of the songs are bittersweet and it's slightly uncomfortable to watch as he beats himself up over a lost relationship. However, his sharp, self-deprecating humour smoothes the atmosphere and the gig peaks in a glee club sing-a-long about Heather Reid the weather presenter. [Chris Bathgate]
Jamie Wallace O'Connor, or 'The Wee Rogue' starts the proceedings, and much of the audience are initially mesmerised by his pure vocals. He sounds at times like King Creosote playing James Orr Complex's guitar. His songs are long, with many exposed, instrumental passages. They come across like Scots ballads, dealing in love and loss of innocence. Awkward chord shapes complement his Fife lilt and there's a sweet progression on I Partnered the Devil.
Craig Coulthard, or Randan Discotheque, has a more varied collection, from love and war to political and religious insights. The songs are split with passages of pre-scripted dialogue, providing snapshots of his psyche and hinting at influences and relationships. The Prince Must Go To Iraq raises much laughter but many of the songs are bittersweet and it's slightly uncomfortable to watch as he beats himself up over a lost relationship. However, his sharp, self-deprecating humour smoothes the atmosphere and the gig peaks in a glee club sing-a-long about Heather Reid the weather presenter. [Chris Bathgate]