Calvin Johnson @ Hyndland Community Hall, 3 Aug
If a poll was ever commissioned to determine a social order of indie-cred in modern music then Calvin Johnson would surely be a heavy contender for the throne. Not only has he fronted such seminal indie-stalwarts as Beat Happening and The Halo Benders, he is also the founder and owner of influential independent record label, K-Records, which has released many stellar underground records by the likes of Beck, Built To Spill and Kimya Dawson to name but a few.
The late Kurt Cobain even had the label’s logo tattooed on his forearm. In testament to these accolades Scotland’s twee-core brigade are out in force to witness tonight’s endeavours with Alasdair Roberts, members of Teenage Fanclub and The Pastels, and what looks to be a fair amount of vegetarians and vegans making up the audience – nothing against either. And where shalt thou performance from alt-rock royalty take place? In an old community centre in the west end, naturally.
After some perplexing support from Muscles of Joy – which, in all their avant-garde glory veer, between something beautiful, and harmonious to ‘are they having a laugh’ territory – Mr. Johnson takes to the floor, in absence of a stage, and begins to serenade us with his delightfully askew songs. Regaling the crowd with stories of his recent trip across the water – “Ireland is an island, and Belfast is on it, but it’s not actually in the Republic of Ireland, it’s confusing, and people got so touchy about it” – or his take on MTV Unplugged – “the only person who didn’t sit down on that show was the most rock’n’roll of all, Jonathan Richman, he knows sitting down is not rock’n’roll. I’m telling you this so I can have a small break and a seat.”
Calvin is an eccentric; he’s animated, theatrical, his baritone voice and delivery akin to the late Johnny Cash, his body wiggles and shakes akin to Morrissey. Tonight’s set is choc-full of witty and entertaining songs, highlights of which are When You Are Mine where Johnson croons, “Venus De Milo will grow a couple of wings and pose for photos with an arm around each of us,” with a delivery so deadpan that one would think it was hymnal, or Lynch The Swan with its curious anti-winged advisory, “blind the sparrow, choke the chicken, alienate the crow, never trust a robin, lynch the swan.”
But the set stealer award goes to the unaccompanied Sitting Alone at the Movies, complete with artistic dance; it has to be seen to be believed but let’s just say the boy’s got moves to challenge Napoleon Dynamite. It all makes for a riveting performance by an enigmatic art-rock anti-hero to be cherished. [Alan Souter]