GLASGOW COMEDY FESTIVAL
FOR a big man (he's six foot four) Dara Ó Briain is surprisingly light on his feet. He doesn't do it all the time but every so often, in the crescendo of an anecdote, he'll do a little delighted leap into the air, like an e
ight-year-old boy having a sugar rush.
Ó Briain may have become one of the UK's most ubiquitous TV comedy talking heads but he was clearly thrilled to be on stage in Glasgow, sharing his patter with a live audience. The cavernous and carpeted reaches of the Royal Concert Hall are a rather subdued space for comedy but he worked hard to build up a buzz with the crowd, bellowing conversations with a 15-year-old boy in the front row, a forest ranger and a student, and effortlessly making them the subject of his amiable, good natured banter.
It's easy to see why Ó Briain has become such a telly staple, and the thousands of punters crammed into the Concert Hall were not disappointed. There was a bit too much laughing when the man off the telly said a swear word but hey, in comedy that's just the price of success.
COMEDY
JASON COOK: MY CONFESSIONS *** THE STAND, GLASGOW
SINCE this show won widespread critical acclaim at the Edinburgh Fringe, a key figure in Jason Cook's deeply personal narrative has died, affording it even greater poignancy, with the tears he fails to suppress at the climax heartfelt. Yet while the prankster Geordie's final ten minutes remain raw, moving and cathartic, some of My Confessions' power has dissipated since August.
This is not to suggest that Cook relates it with any less feeling, simply that the 50-seater Stand II in Edinburgh bestowed the right level of intimacy for his honesty. Despite a fair-sized audience and promises not to "pick on" anyone, Cook failed to fill the front row of the much larger Stand in Glasgow, a consequence of the show's title perhaps but a shame nonetheless. Forced really to project the details of his bad behaviour, Cook's nervier, gabbling delivery loosened several anecdotes of their charm, with vulnerable confessions of childish indiscretion and insensitivity now approaching boasts. Still, this remains a well-structured hour, gently building from the admission that his girlfriend cuts his hair to the powerful finale. As he exposes his inner demons and insecurities, you cannot help but warm to Cook, who betrays a far greater artistic intent than most stand-ups.
MUSIC
ATTIC LIGHTS ***QMU, GLASGOW
IT PERHAPS wasn't entirely surprising to see a sparse crowd turn out for this QMU show by Glasgow hairies Attic Lights – the band's final date in a UK tour of student unions. Students, after all, hardly seem the quintet's most likely target audience. They're a winsome, energetic bunch, fronted by a loveably daft, cuddly figure in Kevin Sherry, who chucked himself around the stage in his socks. Their reference points though – Guided By Voices, Big Star and Teenage Fanclub – are perhaps slightly too vintage for your average young undergraduate, as proven by the number who preferred to hunker over a cheap pint in the bar upstairs.
That said, in Never Get Sick of The Sea and Bring You Down, Attic Lights do have a pair of cracking tunes well capable of endearing them to a youthful crowd. Both are just as full of bright, shimmering choruses, fuzzy guitars and tight West Coast harmonies as any song in their set, but they're infused too with a punchy contemporary pop sparkle, which probably explains why major label Island recently opted to sign Attic Lights up on a five-album deal. Their debut longplayer – due in June – could prove the start of a relatively unlikely success story.
The full article contains 631 words and appears in The Scotsman newspaper.
