Randolph’s Leap, The Classic Grand, Glasgow
Like a serene waterfall, most of the impact of the show is at the tail end.Read more on Randolph’s Leap Listen to Randolph’s Leap on Spotify
The building in which tonight’s gig is in has two floors. Upstairs, there is a wrestling event, with bodyslams reverberating through the roof like an enraged wave shuddering a North Sea fishing boat. Downstairs, however, is some of Scotland’s best acoustic folk music.
The absurdity of these two bookings is only fully realised when a wrestler, clad in scarlet lycra, legs it out of the band’s dressing room area and whips up the stairs back to the chest thumping celebration of masculinity.
But for all its distraction, it makes for extremely fertile stage banter. Not that Randolph’s Leap needs much encouragement. Singer and guitar string strummer Adam Ross has the Michael Cera-esque, indie-kid-turned-awkward boy thing down to a T, quips keeping the crowd hanging on throughout.
When the quips aren’t quite in flow however, this band’s music is an excellent fall-back. Like a serene waterfall, most of the impact of the show is at the tail end. ‘As I Lie In The Mud’ is a sharp take on club culture, spoken word lamentations of sweaty beer, whilst set closer ‘Technology’ is an endearing swipe at the pitfalls of the 21st Century. But it’s with ‘Going Home’, a tale of returning back to what you know best, that this evening is defined. Defined not by wrestlers upstairs, but by supreme songwriting.