The Last Big Weekend: Saturday, 30 August
It’s been a summer like no other in Glasgow. In July the city was transformed for what’s being widely recognised as being the most successful Commonwealth Games ever. If there was a nook or cranny that could host a bit of sport it was used, with a legion of helpful Clydesiders pointing visitors in the right direction. Glasgow’s culture hasn’t been left out, with the reopening of the Kelvingrove bandstand seeing sets by Belle and Sebastian, Teenage Fanclub and more.
And as the nights close in and the temperature cools, what better way to finish the summer than a massive gig in an obscure park in the East End? Richmond Park is such a random spot that some of the city’s taxi drivers are left a little baffled by requests for a fare to the small tree-lined space on the south side, but that’s where the East End Social have chosen to host their Last Big Weekend of the Summer.
Smartly, the action’s all in a big marquee, rather than trying to second guess the weather, and that’s where the early birders amble towards when a reassuring guitar squall marks Honeyblood getting things moving. There aren’t too many here to catch Stina Tweeddale confidently filling the tent Fall Forever’s tender croon, but the duo are confident and loud. Their self-titled debut combines sweet melodies with biting lyrical ripostes with the caustic snarls of Super Rat and Why Don’t You Grow providing early high points.
Holy Mountain are an altogether different proposition and their sludgy thrash metal is an uncomfortable fit on the roster of today’s hosts, Chemikal Underground. There’s hair everywhere, bassist Allen Stewart goes tapps aff and feet are planted firmly on the various monitors. The tunes are ferocious and there are a few tousled heads moving but they seem to go over the heads of most that hear them.
Unlike other shoegaze bands that faded badly before having their members cherry picked to join stadium behemoths or strung their fans along with the promise of new material for twenty years, Swervedriver had the decency to split on a relative high before this fairly recent resurrection. Always a closer relation to Ride than My Bloody Valentine, there’s still obvious affection for the swirling distortion of Mezcal Head classics Last Train to Satansville and Duel, and with talk of a new record in the offing there's curiosity over what the Swervies might have to offer in 2014.
Straight from No Way, Young Fathers offer an unrelenting sensory assault with rhymes, crashing beats and a confrontational stage presence. SAY Award-winning Tape Two is largely discarded in favour of new album Dead and rising Edinburgh chanteuse Law sashays on to add her soulful tones to WAR. She sticks around to offer a soothing foil to MCs Kayus, Alloysious and G as they spit venomous lyrics out at the growing crowd.
“If you had've told me as a 16-year-old that I’d be sharing a bill with Swervedriver, the Wedding Present and Mogwai, I’d have told you to fuck off.” The Twilight Sad’s James Graham is on typically self-effacing form in the midst of a vintage band performance. Cold Days From the Birdhouse has long since entered the great Scottish songbook and I Became A Prostitute will surely follow. New material is looming and the signs here are strong, with guitars back to the fore while Graham’s body movements continually suggest he’s constantly on the verge of starting a fight with himself. Compelling stuff.
An enormous queue for locally-brewed West beer had been building since Young Fathers, but during The Wedding Present it reaches critical mass, with surely more people out of the tent than in it. Whatever the reason for the wait, it’s poor planning, but David Gedge and his specially assembled line-up (various members from previous incarnations pulled together on a one-off basis) don’t seem fussed. Old favourites Brassneck and a deafening Suck bring enormous smiles to the diehards in their George Best t-shirts.
On paper James Holden looked like a refugee from the following day’s EDM-focused bill hosted by Numbers and Optimo. But he pushes a lot of the same buttons as Jon Hopkins and aided by a live drummer and saxophonist, quickly puts paid to any thoughts that he'd booked for the wrong day. It’s both pulsating and hypnotic and the closing Caterpillar’s Intervention out-battles Battles. For the guitar-heads, Holden was surely the day’s pleasant surprise.
There are no guitars to be seen at Fuck Buttons either, of course and the sight of Andrew Hung and Benjamin Power at either end of an enormous mixing desk never sounds hugely appetising. But the sight of Hung’s hips grinding along to the rhythm of The Red Wing is all the cue the crowd needs, and by the time the relentless barrage of Surf Solar hits, Richmond Park is a mass of movement. Slow Focus was one of last year’s best records and here’s it’s been brought to life in the sexiest possible way.
Mogwai would never be so complacent to consider anything so foolish as a victory lap but with each album release they’ve build up their global reputation a little bit more each time, and Richmond Park is in a celebratory mood. Rave Tapes’ more ambient sounds get a few nods but the hometown five piece are happy to concentrate on the guitar roar where it all started around twenty years ago. Stuart Braithwaite bobs and weaves with a massive grin on his face through the whole set and while the band have played bigger Scottish crowds than this, the occasion isn’t lost on anyone. Rano Pano is a frightening proposition and the roar of Mogwai Fear Satan leaves 3,000 pairs of ears ringing as they troop out of Richmond Park, wondering where exactly they are and how the hell to get home from this strange little corner of Glasgow.