St Deluxe, The Hermit Crabs, Sisa, Hey Princess - Oran Mor

A bit of confusion about the door price this evening. It says £8 which is a bit steep, but all the bands had discount fliers pimped on their MySpace pages. £6 discount = £2 on the door, and bottles of Fosters only a punt, could be a cheap night for music fans.

Crikey, Radar's here, he does get around at these gigs.

On stage is a five piece, knowing nothing about the bands, I presume them to be Sisa, laid back female vocalling, Breeders B-side material. They seem nervous, uncomfortable in their skins. They sound like a cross country train ride on an autumn Sunday.

Nope, my mistake, this is Hey Princess. I thought the Princess would be the Diana look-alike with the salt-grinder and chunky necklace, but Tom reckons its the tall oriental gentleman on bass.

The Hermit Crabs, start off with an apology for fannying around with their gear. What is it with bands starting with apologies?

It'd be unfair to call out requests for Camera Obscura songs, but the similarities are there. And if the mighty 'Crabs are to follow in the footsteps of the mighty 'Obscura as they did with the mighty 'nd Sebastian, who's going to be the Isobel Campbell/John Henderson and leave the band?

They've kicked off their very own genre of songs about Sauchiehall Street, it won't be long until other bands follow. Take for example Adam J Smith's genre of song's about the 13th Note, with Kid Canaveral doing likewise with 'Smash Hits'. Alas the 'Crabs had a 'cha cha cha' in the middle which seemed a little jarring.

The gentleman stood to my right was nodding in time to the bassline, as opposed to the drums as normal.

My favourite song was 'Fields Folk Festival' a new song, neat guitar noodles, but they seemed unsure how to finish it.

I was talking to Steph about my fake marriage to a photographer when suddenly Sisa hit the stage. It rather caught me off guard. The mind of Clare Grogan with the body of Katy-Jane Garside stolen the wardrobe from Strawberry Switchblade. A bald Danny Wallace on guitar, playing like Electafixion era Will Sergeant, and a very funky fretless bass player who appeared to be made out of pencils. A bit too bombastic and new wave for me.

Fanzine, the promoter, who I vaguely know off of Jockrock, was rumbling about the size of the crowd. It was bigger than most of the gigs I've been to at the Oran Mor, and I was there, so hey ho.

Ooh, both me and the statuesque girl, who was in front of me in the queue for Spitfire the other night, like St Deluxe.

They're a noisy band, three guitars, a bass and drums. Tom was muttering something about Sebadoh, but I was thinking, more like vocals from Stabiliser or Urusei Yatsura. They were a lot louder than when they played at my flat last year, and they rocked so hard at points Jamie on vocals didn't need his microphone. I liked 'em, I liked 'em loads.

Kristin Hersh - Oran Mor

Foolishly lingering over a pint in the Whisky Bar upstairs, I walked in half-way through the first song, thereby missing the rapturous applause that would have greeted Ms Hersh as she walked on stage. One of the few from that American college indie scene in the mid-90's who never stopped making records, Kristin Hersh is a genuine legend and the crowd know it. After the angular guitar lines of Throwing Muses and distorted rock-outs of 50ft Wave, here she performs under her own name accompanied by a cello and violin alongside drums, bass and guitar.

I suppose I had expected the gig to be a more sombre affair. A huge fan of Throwing Muses, I was less familiar with her solo output. The track I knew best was the Michael Stipe duet 'Your Ghost', a stripped down song with a simple repetitive guitar refrain and no drums. As I arrived downstairs to find the band rocking out, I was surprised and delighted to find that her new setup had lost none of the energy of Throwing Muses. The string section bowed and bothered away like they were being played by evil pixies, the drums were clattering and Kristin Hersh played like a bastard.

Her voice is a delight throughtout, a soft Texan drawl which could be intensely annoying when spoken by someone else, feels like a warm cuddle from Kristin. She seems at ease throughout the gig, reining in the head wobbling and telling a few anecdotes to the throng. At one point she recalled how her band were unable to 'speak Scottish', as it just sounded like a bunch of disconnected syllables to them, then an audience member shouted something in response and she said 'Yeah, kinda like that!'

A rocked-out version of 'Your Ghost' made all the better for it's lack of Stipiness came towards the end of the set and received a warm reception, especially after the revelation that it was written in Glasgow. Kristin came back out after the end for 2 encores and could easily have gone on all night were it not for the venue's wish to close up. Spoilsports.

So we had to say goodbye to possibly the only woman who could come here and say 'Y'all' without getting a kicking. Hope she comes back again soon, and I'll be down the front this time.

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