I went to see Grandaddy (of the criminally under-represented electro-country future-shock pop/rock genre) at the Carling Academy in Glasgow on Friday night. I got to Neil's flat a bit late, after a slightly frantic hoon to Renfrew to pick up some tickets from Mart and then back into the city centre. We met up with a couple of Neil's mates and then headed to the gig.

I managed to miss my second support band of the week, but hey; I'd already seen them. We had a couple of pints - not Carling, thankfully - while we were waiting for Grandaddy to arrive and then wahey! Straight into the fun. It was an excellent gig - they're not a jump-around-the-stage band but they'd picked the set from their most straightforwardly crowd-pleasing tracks, and the crowd loved it. The venue was packed, and the audience obviously all wanted to be there, unlike the slightly odder Snow Patrol Liquid Room gig. The screen above the stage was showing suitably quirky videos and it all came together really well. They played two encores and finished off with He's Simple, He's Dumb, He's The Pilot, which, apart from having a cracking name, is probably one of their best, most Grandaddy-ish tracks.

Top stuff. I'd definitely go to see them again.

After the gig we wandered into Barfly, just across the river. (Hannah bought a pie en route, and kindly left me a bit. I have never enjoyed a pie quite so much. Post-gig euphoria + lots o' beer + hunger -> pie is great. Mmm pie.) Apparently Death Disco was on that night but Alan McGee wasn't and being the like, really cool dudes that we were, we left.

This was a mistake. Neil and I ended up in some hellish dive that cost an arm and a leg to get into. Coupled with the fact that we were by now completely trollied, it was time to go home.

I drove back around lunchtime (after watching the slightly depressing Scotland-Australia game that morning with a particularly evil, lurking hangover) and stuck some Jimi Hendrix on the stereo, which made the M8 almost bearable. Saturday night was pretty standard; we met up with one of Jeff's archaeology mates, the two Allys and my sister for a few drinks, but nothing spectacular. Sunday was one of those lost days...I didn't do anything in particular but seemed to spend the whole day occupied with pottering around the flat.

Ah well. Summary: gig good; everything else standard issue.