Considering that this was a joint promotion by the music development officer of Dundee City Council, local newspaper The Courier's "Rocktalk" section and the guys who organise the annual "Go North" Festival (with a bit of SXSW on the side), while I wouldn't describe it as a closely guaraded secret, it didn't exactly have particularly long-term publicity before the event. There was a lot of publicity close to the event - and you can't argue with that - but maybe it needed a bit more, a bit farther ahead (or behind, depending on the way you look at it!!!).
I say this for reasons that will become clear in a mo.
The main part of the festival was a series of showcase gigs for both local and Scottish talent, across the city at selected venues. The Shore were doing an early one with assorted talent on display while The Art Bar got the acoustic (or largely acoustic) slots including acoustic-ambient strangeness from Esperi, and others. The Reading Rooms - right up the other end of the city - hosted The Hazey Janes, The Wildhouse, a surprise headline act (of whom, at this moment in time, I have absolutely no idea what it was) and others, while The Westport Bar hosted Non Zero, Electric Boy Shock, The Leatherettes and others. Finally, The Doghouse hosted Luva Anna, Tenement, The Law and some other band.
All gigs were free entry. So you'd have thought that the venues would be mobbed. Although I couldn't clone myself enough in time to be able to attend all the gigs I wanted to see, I had decided on a plan that ended with The Law at The Doghouse - a plan that so nearly succeeded.
I had to see The Wildhouse - last time was in the cramped environment of The Balcony Bar and lord knows when the last time was at a larger venue. Now I know they're never gonna be a household name (well, outside of somewhere in a parallel universe, that is), but they're a bit akin to a musical drug - you gotta have your fix at some point down the line. So, onwards I went - unbelievably, for the first time ever since my 11 years in this city - to The Reading Rooms. What a bizarre place! I got in, and as there were no signs, tried to get in totally the wrong door, finally realised the right door and went into this bar area realising that the venue itself was at the other end of this bar. One dog-leg later, and it's into this squarish cavern of a place that looks something more like a slimmed down old railway engine shed. With a stage of a height for which you'd need rope and tackle to climb up - where crowd surfing would be dangerously close to bunjee jumping - it was not at all what I'd envisaged. Reminded me a bit of the old London Roundhouse (yes, I know it was square!!) in many ways, but I digress. There were only about thirty or so people there to witness the event, which surprised me for a free gig and seeing as The Hazeys were on (maybe it improved later?) and I got there as the band had hit the stage. Sheila was set up stage left as we looked at it, standing aloft the two mighty drums, clad in black, sticks held high, cymbal aloft the drums, striking down hard. In front of the ever present calndlestick holder and lit candles, stood Paul, also largely clad in black with his bulky frame hunched down over a big guitar as the track went into overdrive. Meanwhile Peter is on the 2nd guitar, standing right at the centre of the stage, hooded top and back to the audience, looking for all the world like some 36th century Alan-A-Dale (for those that know the Robin Hood legend). If this wasn't classic Wildhouse stage presence in action, then what was coing from the speakers, most certainly was. With shades of drumming that ranged from steadily metronomic to explosive firepower, this massive rhythm boomed out of the PA while all around this monstrous wall of guitars seemed to be coming out of the walls, never mind the PA system, as The Wildhouse took off for parts unknown. Like I've said before, you experience a Wildhouse gig - there's nothing in the world like it anymore - and fort he next half hour, we were treated to the band at srtorm force with the guitarists producing this howl of guitar heaven next to the searing heat of lead guitar soloing that the likes of Neil Young and olde Lou Reed, could never even have dreamt of creating. All of this with Sheila's monumental drumming filling every part of the room, was all a bit like travelling in the heart of an out of control blazing musical supernova, as the shades of night fell, the darkness descends and you're transported to an altogether better place. The last number was the longest and, with Peter, crouched on stage at this bank of pedals, wringing his guitar every way imaginable, like a hunchbacked, hooded, whiter version of Hendrix, towards the end Paul laid down the guitar and proceeded to spit/recite lyrics as Sheila just carried on drumming, the whole thing positively spiritual, and you could almost shut your eyes and imagine that this must have been the awesomeness that early Velevet Underground may have dared to sound like - only better. Over this good a PA, looking as they did, and with that unique sound, this was vintage Wildhouse in all its glory.
From here, it was a short hop across town to The Doghouse. Now, you couldn't have had a greater contrast - the place was heaving with people. There must have been easily 150+ in there and it was only 9.45. I got there just as one of the non-Dundee bands was doing their last number and felt quite relieved that I'd not been around to hear the rest! Then turned out that I was just in time for Luva Anna. I decided to stay as (a) I love the band now, and (b) I was chatting to one of the band member's mum, and (c) I wanted to see at least one band here at The Doghouse. Actualy, not only that, but alot of the crowd looked like they were new to the band so it would be interesting to see how they went down. Immediately launching into the addictive indie folk-rock opener, the crowd were leaping and dancing or simply swaying irresistibly to the rhythms while Dave was racing through the song and the end result was a roar of approval from the audience. From there it was Drew Boy singing the homage to night clubs everywhere in the form of the wry observational lyrics, flowing chorus and multi-part harmonies that is the serious humour of "Sticky Feet". After that we got the "arms-aloft, hands swaying" slow anthem that is "Ballad Of Bobby Smith" while its follow-up, "Wooden Shoe" had the audience dancing once again with its jaunty solidity and decpetively simple but oh-so catchy arrangement and hooklines. As a treat we got a rare outing for the vehicle that is Dave Webster's aamzing vocal performance of "Hold Still", a track that starts slow and gradually build and builds into this towering ballad with the band flying and Dave's vocals going places few others dare to breathe. Finally it was the rabble-rousing crowd-pleaser of "Big Fat Bouncer" and - all too soon, even though I've seen them loads, lately - they were gone, to rapturous applause, too. The folk festival circuit awaits them, with luck!!

Back to Dundee Bands home page
Email Andy G
Home page