Gigs, schmigs; if you missed the May Day Bank Holiday weather in Glasgow, I’m here to tell you it was lovely.  One indoor café I walked into that afternoon was so quiet, I thought they were closed.  Those who stuck around outside missed out, though, because Joyce Delaney were the opening act down at The Hug and Pint.  Combining individual acts Nyla on bass and Chrissy Barnacle on (slightly malfunctioning) guitar, they’re a queerpop supergroup to be reckoned with.

Even despite the catchiness of their lo-fi brand of bubblegum punk with a bit of rockabilly thrown in, the lyrics are the real treat here.  With the kind of humour evident from such song titles as Do I Even Like People? and Don’t Be an Asshole, subject matter inspired by breakups on BoJack Horseman, and banter about crying after Valentine’s Day sex, Joyce Delaney are the sort of group you could listen to all night long if you happen to be f*****d up in the same ways that I am.

Marble Gods are so new to the scene that they’re still getting used to their name; regular Hug and Pint-goers themselves, it was their first time playing the venue.  A bit rough around the edges, there was nevertheless an excellent brand-new song on offer in the form of Baby Don’t Look So Sad (inspired by missing out on a Bruce Springsteen concert), and a refreshing quality in their lack of backing vocals.  There was sadly less on offer from The RPMs, who seemed slick and out of place amongst all the DIY.

This was the second time Fazerdaze – project of Auckland’s Amelia Murray – have played Scotland, and the weather was apparently just as good the last time they visited.  This time they brought along their just-released debut album, Morningside, and played it nearly in its entirety, along with a tantalisingly gorgeous track called Heavenly Sweet, as yet unreleased.  And golly, it was beautiful to listen to, all of it betraying the same hypnotic intensity as Murray’s editing of the band’s latest video:

There’s exactly this kind of addictive intricacy to every Fazerdaze song: unable to ignore it, we were all listening so attentively that Murray chided us more than once for being too quiet.  The instrumentation behind every line was so carefully thought through that no two verses sounded exactly the same, and by the end of the night I could hardly wait for them to come back to Scotland so I could hear them play it all over again.  Weather, schmeather; some things are worth keeping indoors.