Adam Stafford, The Seventeenth Century, Martin John Henry - Stereo, Glasgow

Posted in SHOFT on Saturday 8th October 2011 at 11:10pm

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For my last night up here I'd managed to find a pretty special event. These are busy times it seems, and with the huge amount of records being released in the next few weeks, along with the sheer number of great gigs tonight I almost wondered if I'd made the right choice at first. Nursing a headache and the beginnings of a cold, having managed to get soaked struggling over to the Southside earlier, I was feeling a little lacklustre and sorry for myself to be honest. Stereo was also pretty packed when I arrived, with a curious mixture of hipsters and diners. I decided to head down to the venue space early just to have a look around and a quiet pint away from the chatter and noise. It didn't take long for me to realise that I'd made absolutely the right decision tonight after all, and I prepared for a very different kind of noise.

I've detailed elsewhere how I never quite got to see Y'all Is Fantasy Island and how that is matter of great personal regret. So I was pretty excited to see that Adam Stafford was one of Martin John Henry's chosen supports for this pretty special album launch show. Coming swiftly after the release of Adam's own record, which is packed full of surprisingly accessible if occasionally challenging songs, this evening couldn't have been timed better. Tonight though, it's just Adam stalking the spacious stage as he begins to manipulate the various gadgets and loop pedals. Slowly, surely the sounds morph into a tortured take on "Step Up Raise Hands" from his recent record "Build A Harbour Immediately". Gone is the lo-fi funk riffing, and instead we have an epic, shoegazey noise built from vocal loops and slashes of guitar. Slowed to a glacial pace, the repeating sounds are damaged and imperfect, but they build into a strange sheen of noise. Then, as Adam's voice begins to impersonate a siren, it's hard not to hear phantom sounds in the spaces and silences. Also from the record, but more immediately recognisable is "Shot Down You Summer Wannabes". The treatment this time is near symphonic - and it's clear that in Stafford's hands the loop pedal isn't just an agent of soulless repetition. In fact working with it is an organic, physical process - visible particularly as he grows in stature to deliver soaring high notes and jerks erratically around the stage to his own vocal rhythms - pausing only to suggestively rub against the mid-stage pillar. This is an intense, intricate performance which creates so much complexity and texture from so little that it's hard to believe at points that it is indeed just Stafford playing. As he leaves the stage after far too short a set, it strikes me there is something rather anachronistic about Stafford - impeccably turned out for the event, faultlessly polite, intelligent and inventive. Your everyday rock star he isn't, and that is something to be celebrated.

I'd also been curious to finally get to see The Seventeenth Century. Following a couple of EPs of often delicate and rather restrained traditional songs, they came across immediately as surprisingly animated given their formal delivery on record. Having been holed up for some time working on a debut album, there is a sense that this rare live outing in recent times has an added edge. Songs take on longer, more progressive forms and "Banks of Home" delivers a spirited, aggressive and emotional take on folk music with more than a nod to more experimental, post rock soundscapes too. "Young Francis" retains it's military air, but degenerates into a wild reeling ending, with the violin being sawed angrily until the bow sheds horsehair while the tune is anchored by some virtuoso horn playing. Having seen the band play like this, I hope that some of the energy finds its way into the album recording. The EPs have been fine, but their painstaking formality doesn't fully convey how powerful and emotionally affecting the band can be in full flight. Tonights performance, in this respect at least, was something of a revelation.

Having seen Martin John Henry's nervous but engaging performance at Homegame, I'd been looking forward to the release of his debut album "The Other Half of Everything" for a while now and wondering just how that quiet, introspective set would transform on record. Well, for starters Henry takes the stage tonight with a full band - a proper rock band in fact which managed to churn out some impressively loud and focused backdrops to his intriguing and sometimes dark lyrics. Alongside the more traditional bass, drums and guitar set-up Martin operated a small bank of electronics which add a further dimension to the sound and drive some of the songs relentlessly forward. The band slips effortlessly from opener "Breathing Space" into the pensive and dramatic "First Light" which works up to some crashing chords before ending with a weirdly funky section. The band are clearly loving every minute of this, and seem to throw every ounce of energy into the performance. Having seen De Rosa once many years back and posthumously enjoyed their records, it's impossible not to draw comparisons. If anything, the band tonight are a little tighter and sharper focused than De Rosa in a live setting, but Henry's songwriting is equally emotive and benefits hugely from this direct approach. Current single "Ribbon On A Bough" is far noisier and punchier here than on record, its singalong chorus and head-bobbingly catchy riff delighting an impressively large audience considering the competition in terms of gigs across town tonight. Finally "There's A Phantom Hiding In My Loft" closes the set, a shimmering and epic final tune which showcases some of the electronic trickery too. Martin John Henry is still the humble character who quietly captured hearts with his songs in Fife, but tonight he's earned the right to defiantly blast this new material at the world.

And so my short visit to Glasgow comes to an end - and what a way to see it to a close! With my ears still ringing, I pick my way through the Saturday night crowds, discarded fish suppers and general debauchery around Central Station and head home. It's been, as ever, a bit of a rollercoaster ride through the local music scene over the past few days - and long may these trips continue.