SINCE her reinvention as a blues artist, prompting a move to the US and her hooking-up with respected guitar-man hubby Joe Bonamassa, Banff singer-songwriter Sandi Thom cuts a more convincing figure than in her previous life as a featherweight acoustic popstrel – the subject of much scorn both for taste-amputated music (lone hit I Wish I Was A Punk Rocker (With Flowers In My Hair) still stubbornly holds ground in her set) and her ill-advised mixing of pop and politics (Thom once duetted with Alex Salmond).
King tut’s, glasgow
Star rating: *
But while her mettle and staying-power are to be commended, it remains hard to get behind the 31-year-old, whose career continues to be governed by acute out-of-touchness – lengthy guitar-solo-licked 12-bar blues jams and over-earnest rock ballads are, patently, not stuff of contemporary magic – and a lack of self-awareness verging on hubris. Much about this show – not least its exhausting 90-minute length – suggested a refusal to acknowledge that fact.
A snoozy medley of The Human Jukebox and Castles seemed to last longer than some King Tut’s headliners’ entire sets. A turn by Scottish rappers Shy and DRS during Revolution was cringeworthily awkward.
Eye-watering cheesiness abounded during Flesh And Blood, while the crowd call-and-response climax of closer Runaway Train was pub-rock quality stuff. But, brazen to the last, Thom and her band locked arms afterwards for Wembley Stadium-worthy stage bows.