Tall Ships + Dad Rocks! – Glasgow Art School – 18th October 2012
aka Toby’s 31st birthday.
“dude I’m in Glasgow on my birthday! 18th October! sooooon. you got room on your floor for 8 men ?! x”
There isn’t too many people in this world that I’d reply to in the affirmative to such a text, but then, Toby and myself have never exactly met up in a conventional manner before, so why start now? Besides, me and Alex haven’t had people stay for ages, and we don’t really deal well with the flat feeling empty for too long.
It turned out that after wrapping up his last solo musical endeavour (Shoes and Socks Off), Toby had some time to kill, and what better way to do that than jump in a van with no money and go on tour for a few weeks? It’s something I wish I was able to do more often, so there’s no judgement here.
On this particular tour, Toby was shacked up with Dad Rocks! and Tall Ships. Both are bands that I’ve seen kicking about mutual circles for a while, but never paid much attention to. I’m really bad for developing an indifference to things that I hear a lot about, even if they are relatively tiny and obscure. It’s a bad habit, and one that often ends up with me kicking myself later on down the line when I realise how much I actually like some of the acts I’ve overlooked for so long…
This was another one of those occasions. It turns out that Tall Ships are actually rather incredible, both live and on record. Have a listen/watch of the video for T=0.
The combination of Toby’s ‘vibe-teching’ (aka getting drunk and cheering from the crowd), and the ridiculously intoxicated eccentrics who had smuggled wine in and were passing commentary after every track in a brogue reminiscent of Billy Connolly came together for a rather interesting evening. Given the amount of airplay that the band have been getting on Radio 1 lately, as well as the string of sold out shows south of the border, they might not be on a stage in such close proximity to our local nutcases next time they venture up this way.
Following in the grand tradition of all indie bands out there for the past few years, we gravitated towards Sleazy’s after the gig in search of White Russians. For some reason, the venue’s milky cocktail has become something of a legend in touring circles, and a must-have when on the road. Very strange how these things work out.
Naturally, we had to ply Toby with booze. I would have taken it as a personal failing on my part if he had had a sober 31st birthday in Glasgow. It’s almost unthinkable that that could be allowed to happen.
It’s nice to know that even with a tiny camera you can take still take semi-decent club pictures if you know what you’re doing.
I’ve never been one for dancing much, but something about Toby’s moves are infectious, and we ended up firmly making our presence felt downstairs. I mean, how could you not get involved?
Look at those faces.
It’s probably safe to say that the boys were fairly pished.
Toby’s just started drinking again after some crazy length of time around three or four years. It was quite amusing to have the tables turned – whereas on tours previously I was always the one swigging red wine from bottles and rambling pish in his ear, this time he was the one that ended up missing after we all piled out and clambered into the van.
Last time we were out in similar circumstances, both of our jackets got nicked from Sleazy’s. This time, Toby’s coat disappeared again. I think the realisation of this, coupled with standing in the rain resulted in him losing the will to go on… stopping in the middle of the street to contemplate his existence.
Poor guy.
Same thing again for your 32nd dude?