This is an exciting gig for three reasons, it’s free, it’s bring-your-own-bottle and Chrissy Barnacle is playing, I doubt I shall ever willingly pass up a chance to see her play.
A quiet gig with about twenty people, standing or sitting in the ill-defined space around the performance area, which is dimly illuminated by fairy lights.
Transmission lies in the heart of a very interesting and eclectic district off High Street in the city centre.
It is a creative space run by six individuals who host a range of varied events, productions and installations; it is only occasionally that they host gigs, which is a shame, but it makes this one all the more special.
Each of the three acts involves an individual singer with a guitar.
The first act is Cop Graveyard – who are too whiney to be punky and too punky to be whiney, but still enjoyable.
There’s nothing wrong with delivering emotional lyrics in an emotional voice, but when this is underpinned by solo electric guitar music that only follows suit briefly before falling into distinctly punk-rock tropes, it can be jarring.
Particularly in a small room with barely anyone in it; although the guitar work is of a high quality, it is often just too heavy for the act.
There are a lot of good lyrics throughout, but some of them are a little too self-indulgent for me.
Cop Graveyard would likely benefit from a full band or from toning it down a smidge; the first few tracks involve a keyboard player and are more fleshed out and dynamic than the rest.
Second up is Boston based Moonish Brute, who was set to leave Glasgow eight hours after playing their set and they play a very nice set and seems a shy and charming person.
Moonish Brute’s acoustic set is quiet, brooding and a little self-conscious, this is one of the things that make it so warming, comforting and relatable.
Chrissy Barnacle is capable of doing an awful lot – some of these things include delivering complex and professional acoustic guitar and vocals simultaneously, and engaging with her audience in a characteristically hilarious and unpredictable way which helps contextualise her music.
She mentions being “on the road” occasionally throughout her set, in the metaphorical, subjective sense.
Her songs are performed in the order that they were written in; between songs she talks about where the next one or the last one came from; she does this very naturally and confidently.
This discussion adds an optional layer of immersion for the audience; whether or not she does this, it is evident from the way the songs are played that they come from a very real, personal and intimate place.
She never seems to miss a vocal note, Barnacle has an impeccable, almost breathless voice and there seems to be no volume of air in her lungs that will inhibit her from delivering pitch perfection.
Even if you want to drink, and happen to have enough of your preferred tipple on your person, you could enjoy this evening free of charge.
It seems a safe place for experimental musicians, with an air of encouragement and perceptivity coming from the crowd.
Truly, this is a good way to spend a Tuesday evening without having to visit the bank, much less break it.
Witches by Chrissy BarnacleWords: Paul Aitken
