Alternatively, if punk-pop is more your thing, then here are a couple of EPs my (even older) band Nibushi Shang Hong recorded in the late 90s.

Nibushi Shang Hong - Everything You Need to Survive

Nibushi Shang Hong - Desperate to Payout

If anyone’s interested in the rest of the music by (one of) my old band(s) (see my last post), here’s the album we recorded a few years back. 2004-ish, I think.

Digerati - In the Next Few Minutes

Tracklisting:

1. Minefield
2. Pain in me
3. All away
4. Inmate
5. More #3
6. Walking into this
7. Polymath

As was the case this time last year, yesterday I was at Stag and Dagger, Glasgow’s walk-around festival.

This year’s event made use of o2 ABC (1 & 2), CCA, The Art School, Stereo, Nice ‘n’ Sleazy, The Captain’s (when did this venue change its name from The Captain’s Rest?) and Chambre 69, all within walking distance of each other (except The Captain’s, more of which later).

From my original “want to see” list, only a few survived.

• Hot Panda
• The Heartbreaks
• Passenger
• White Arrows
• Chasing Owls
• White Denim
• Random Impulse
• Django Django
• Holy Mountain
• Willy Mason
• Discopolis

We started the day by getting our wrist bands at ABC and then making our way over to The Captain’s to see The Heartbreaks. Stag and Dagger is run by PCL and, since PCL own The Captain’s bar, it’s not difficult to understand why this venue is used. It’s a nice bar (but shite gig venue, IMO) but it’s a taxi journey away from the City Centre and all the other venues, which are all within walking distance of each other. With so many bands playing to such a tight schedule the two things that are needed to make this a smoothly run event are venues that are easily accessible and a timetable that is strictly adhered to. Maybe that’s the old man in me talking, but there’s no point in publishing the time at which bands will be on stage if it’s not going to be accurate. For this reason, we arrived at The Captain’s to see The Heartbreaks at 5pm and left at 5.15pm having watched them setup and then walk off stage. I’ve no idea if they were any good when they finally came on, as I was back in a taxi to go see Passenger at ABC. 

Michael Rosenberg - AKA Passenger - is a very likeable acoustic guitar player and singer of whom I know very little. 

He did a few songs on stage at ABC2, before coming out into the crowd and playing a few more “unplugged”. Not quite my cup of tea but he has an interesting voice and, as I said, was a very likeable performer. I especially liked his “I Hate” song, above.

From here, we left ABC and walked up the hill to the “Art School” University Union, AKA The Vic Bar. It might not look much, but that hill is a killer. At the top, as I felt my thighs burn, I looked up to see the venue in rubble. Yes, the old Art School Union, Vic Bar and all, is gone. Sad times indeed. But, if it’s been knocked down, where were White Arrows playing?

It turns out that the Art School have bought the bar that used to be the Beresford, and the Library (and many other names, probably) at the bottom of the Beresford student accommodation building, on Sauchiehall Street. Back down the hill then…

White Arrows are a band that wouldn’t normally do much for me, but I enjoyed what I saw and they were decent enough at what they were doing. Which was, Hockey / Passion Pit / The Rapture-esque, groovy, soundscapey stuff. Pretty sure that’s what they’d describe it as.

After this, we skipped Chasing Owls in order to watch the whole of White Denim, a band that I know quite a few of my friends like but who I’d never managed to get into. White Denim were playing the largest venue being used, ABC1, and there was a good crowd there to see them. Much more bluesy and featuring far less vocals than I would’ve imagined, I really liked them. I especially enjoyed watching their exceptionally happy-looking guitarist, who I’ve subsequently learned is called Austin Jenkins.

Down the hill to Stereo after this, to see London rapper Random Impulse, and one of the best gigs of the evening - unfortunately not the busiest, though. There were maybe 30 people watching as Random Impulse - AKA Jovel Walker - ran through his set, cutting his finger near the start and bleeding profusely over his guitar throughout. Highlights were his songs Overload (below), Best Party Ever, On a Roll, and his version of White Stripes’ Fell in Love With a Girl. I’d pay good money to see him play again, and it would be fantastic to see him in front of a big, energetic crowd.

After this, we went back up the hill to see Django Django at ABC1 and Holy Mountain at Nice ‘n’ Sleazy. I say “we”, but Claire was not interested in the slightest in seeing the latter. 

I really enjoyed Django Django, who reminded me of Super Furry Animals, Beta Band etc. One of the bands that I’ll definitely listen to more of after hearing them play. Their song, WOR (below) is fantastic and I’m just about to go and download their album.

The last band of the evening - for me, anyway - was Glasgow’s Holy Mountain. Last year, my metal fix was attained through seeing Desalvo, this year it was Holy Mountain, both of whom feature Idlewild guitarist Allan Stewart, funnily enough.

They didn’t quite hit the high mark I’d expected, after getting myself excited by listening to the first mini-album prior to their gig. They were good, but not great.

If you like Kyuss, Sheavy, or any other loud, heavy, stoner rock, give them a listen.

Too often, the internet goes crazy with condolence-type rhetoric when someone famous dies. I’m not usually someone who joins in but thought I’d share some of my Beastie Boys memories after hearing yesterday of the death of MCA, Adam Yauch.

I won’t pretend to be the guy who was into the Beastie Boys from day 1, or who owned everything they’d ever released, but the truth isn’t too far from that.

My first memory of the band is from 1987 - when I would’ve been about 11 years old - when they arrived for their first UK tour. All I knew about them at this point was what I’d seen in newspapers and on TV. The sum total of which was: The Beastie Boys are bad! More than anything else around this time, I was aware of the fact that Mike D wore Volkswagen badges around his neck. I will admit to attempting to steal one or two (unsuccessfully) from the front of Golfs and Pandas Polos parked near my house. It wasn’t until years later that I realised how much of this was (a) panto; and (b) completely made up by the UK tabloids. I don’t recall my parents mentioning them, but I’m pretty sure that as I got interested in their music, my mum and dad would not have been pleased.

At this point, I’d heard Licensed to Ill (I’m fairly certain I got a tape copy from my friend’s big brother) but it would’ve been Check Your Head that was to have the most major influence, as I was pretty late to Paul’s Boutique. I don’t recall if that was because if its (at the time) sophisticated soundscape, or simply because I was beginning to get into other stuff at the time. 

By the time Check Your Head was released in 1992, I was approaching 16 years old and was doing everything someone of that age does. More than anything else though, I have a distinct memory of cycling around Cardonald on my BMX with friends, Gareth, Umran and Kaliph singing Finger Lickin’ Good.

‪So Mike D. what’s up? Yo Yauch what up?
‬‪Come on Mike let’s tear it up‬

We’d all take a Beastie Boy and try and do their lines, while pulling wheelies and thinking we were the SHIT. Kaliph was the youngest, so he probably got made to be Mario C.

When Ill Communication was released, I was in the final days of 6th year at school, awaiting a Summer break that would lead to the start of University. If Check Your Head (and all that came before it) was an album I listened to as a kid, then this was my first Beastie Boys album as an adult. I was almost 18 (so, technically, still a kid) and to this day, it’s the one album of theirs that has had the most lasting effect. Whether it was drunken dancing with Keith, Grant and Graham on Level 8 of Strathclyde Uni Union, constantly whistling the Flute Loop riff for about a year, or trying to dress like I was in the band (think alt-Golf), Ill Communication will stay with me for a long time.

Hello Nasty was released in 1998, just in time for the festival season and T in The Park. Around this time, I’d got myself a part-time job working for Rock Steady Security (Safeway wasn’t doing it for me anymore, although I’d return and they’d thank me for it) and although I’d mainly work at Ibrox, Tynecastle Stadiums or the SECC, I worked in Balado for the duration of 1998’s TITP. Fortunately for me, I timed my break with the Beastie Boys set and watched it with my friends Tommy and Natalie in the pissing rain, in full Rock Steady, hi-viz uniform.

It’d be another 6 years before we’d get another album, but the year after TITP, the Beastie Boys played Glasgow at the SECC. They were great but I will always remember the following night more vividly.

Grand Royal artist, Luscious Jackson were playing King Tut’s Wah Wah Hut and - even although I was a fan of LJ - I distinctly remember buying tickets solely because I knew that the Beastie Boys would make an appearance. They did - well, I remember seeing MCA (in the crowd, nodding along to the band) and Mike D; no sign of Adrock - and I felt like an arse when I spoke to Mike D, since I had on the t-shirt that I’d bought at the gig the night before. Still, I met (one of) the Beastie Boys. Two, if you count Eric Bobo.

By the time To the 5 Boroughs was released in 2004, I’d been married a year and had grown at least one huge beard. I hadn’t forgotten about the Beastie Boys, but they weren’t as important to me as they’d once been. That’s not to say that I didn’t get excited; I bought it the day it came out and loved it, but nothing on it grabbed me as much as previous songs had.

Much the same could be said of Hot Sauce Committee Part Two, although I’ve always felt that this is as much a “produced by the Beastie Boys” album as anything else. 

I don’t mean to dismiss the last couple of albums - and I haven’t even mentioned stuff like Aglio E Olio, The in Sound From Way Out, Some Old Bullshit (the latter of which I’d loaned to the previously mentioned Keith and Grant, just as their house was broken into, never to be seen again) or any number of singles and EPs - but the albums I’ve mentioned all have memories attached, more than the other releases that I’ve skipped over.

I don’t know who’ll read this; I quite enjoyed writing it for the sake of something to do with my fingers, but it’s become quite a long way of saying that Adam Yauch has played quite a major part in my life and he will be sorely missed.

Many have told - and will tell - of more poignant memories, but this is my tuppence. 

Namaste.

For the next couple of weeks, Glasgow Green plays host to a massive, inflatable Stonehenge for people to bounce upon.

Looks like fun.