Malcolm Middleton

Now, when you think of the live music scene in Glasgow, you may think of places such as King Tut's, the 13th Note or Nice'n Sleazy's. The name Woodside Social Club, however, doesn't exactly spring to mind!

Still, this is where monthly indiefest The National Pop League has been resident for a while, and this is where the The Winchester Club is putting on an accoustic set by Malcolm Middleton (of Arab Strap) and Troika tonight. So, to the bemusement of the three locals having come in for a quiet pint and the friendly barstaff that are tired of getting asked for Cranberry Juice Mixers, a small shoegazy crowd descends on this unsuspecting hall, watching an impressive 80's glitterball paint stars on the mini dancefloor and listening to a frankly amazing Reggae version of 'Hey Jude'. Things are starting off good...

And they continue to be so, as Troika come on and show that this rather unplugged format suits them entirely. It basically allows all the little details to come out beautifully in their songs, the pearly guitar sound, and singer Andy's stunning vocals, part Lloyd Cole, part Lou Reed ca. Nico and the Andy Warhol album, soaring to crystal clear heights to crash down in an ironic, raspy twist. One of the songs has their drummer sing, who turns out to have excellent vocal abilities, albeit a totally different style, much closer to Oasis and Blur, much more matter-of-fact. Following on are two songs performed solo by guitarist Neil, coming across all sparkly and wispy, like an undiscovered Nick Drake song, or an Mojave 3 B-side. Pretty, unpolished, and entirely charming because of it. Just as the audience is falling adream to these liquid amberwhispers, two phones start ringing loudly behind the bar, dragging everyone back to reality. Reality is Neil bravely finishing off his songs and another full Troika appearance, reality is a very happy crowd, now beefed up by assorted members of the Glasgow Indie Mafia (Delgados, Eva, Belle & Sebastian, Tacoma Radar, etc...)

During changeover the friendly guy next to me takes to loudly slagging Stuart Murdoch, who happens to be only one table away. Oh dear...I giggle, and excuse myself to the ladies. I don't get involved in such matters, you see, "I believe in peace, bitch."

And seemingly with that thought in mind, Malcolm Middleton sits down and starts his set. Because, while his guitar utterly betrays him with its happiness, winking flirtatiously and stripping off layer after layer of shiny, delicate melody, his dark lyrics and quiet, disillusioned vocals throw a stark contrast. It's like some strange magical hybrid, half starsmile, half hellhound, but all the more transfixing. Not being afraid to use brutaly harsh lyrics only softened by their childlike honest simplicity is something Arap Strap have perfected into an artform. Mr. Middleton tonight makes no exception to this, but strewn in between are little specks of lightness and hope, little glimmers in between the clouds.

Nowhere is this as obvious as on the last song, 'Angel and Devil' with its dark fingerpainting lyrics: _"Last night a devil sat on my bed, told me: Malcolm, you'll never amount to anything, never achieve anything, and your songs are shite" "No, last night an angel sat down on my bed, told me: Malcolm, you can amount to something, you can achieve anything, and your songs are alright". _ This raises a smile, and by the end a wave of applause that is entirely out of proportion to the small venue size. Rightly so.

Leaving the venue homewards into the rain (well, this IS Glasgow) and fighting with a very unruly umbrella, I remember something potentially embarassing about reviewing this, so I shout over to the bloke having a fag in the doorway: _"Hey mate, could I ask you something?". "Mmh-hmm?". "You'll probably think I'm really dumb, but I gotta review this and..." "Oh no...!" "And I've only ever heard two Arab Strap songs, so was that Arap Strap stuff or all his own?"

"Nah", the guy replies laughing, _"that was all my own stuff". _Oh...I turn over properly and sure enough, that's him. What can I say, I am blonde..."Well, listen...devils always talk mince, ok? The angel was right...But you knew that..."_