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Arts Fringes

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MUSIC

The music scene in Scotland's Central Belt. We check out some gigs, and the occasional piece of recorded music. The emphasis here is heavily on rock, indie and electronic styles.

Thurston Moore Group + Curdle @ St. Luke’s, Glasgow 12th June 2017

'Twas time for another evening of fine cult indie rock at Glasgow’s iconic former church St. Luke’s. The support band last night was Curdle, an all-female act with a vaguely riot grrrl/Hole-influenced sound, but attired in a distinctively gothic manner. The material included a simplistic but catchily direct song called “Give Me Your Phone Number”, and another one that came complete with an onstage theremin solo that felt like a piece of random (but not unwelcome) inspiration.

The gothic-attired Curdle

Thurston Moore’s set felt amazingly short, even though it was undoubtedly a quite reasonable length. His songs clock at between 6 and 12 minutes each, and yet each one is a pure piece of breathless, warm, diamonds-in-the-grunge exhilaration that simply breezes by in the manner of waving out the window at a small roadside town on Route 666. Most of the material last night was culled directly from his recent Rock N Roll Consciousness album, a sonic gem that hearkens back to the overwhelming sonic majesty of his old band Sonic Youth’s Daydream Nation album. There’s something wonderfully intimate and mystical about the St. Luke’s venue that positively encourages a lively, good-humoured rapport between audience and band. It was there in the recent Evan Dando gig (which I previously reviewed) and it was there again last night. Moore himself, despite being nearly 59 years of age, appeared to be in almost as fine shape as he was during his old band’s 1980s heyday.

Exhilaration from Thurston Moore @ St. Luke's

While it’s hard to pick out particular highlights from a consistently stunning evening, the grinding yet sunnily catchy Cusp, the driving yet spacey and echo-laden Turn On, James Sedwards’ metal-influenced noodling on Smoke of Dreams, and a later guitar-to-speaker feedback loop that would have most post-rock chancers weeping in self-pity were perhaps my own finest take-away memories.

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