Every so often you attend a concert with fairly modest expectations and end up leaving convinced you’ve witnessed something genuinely special. That’s exactly what happened when I took Emma and my son to see a Kate Bush tribute show in Glasgow.
I’ll be honest, I expected a good night out. Kate Bush’s catalogue is so extraordinary that any reasonably competent tribute act already has some of the finest songs ever written to work with. What I wasn’t expecting was for the evening to become one of my favourite gigs of all time.
That’s a bold statement considering the number of concerts I’ve attended over the years.
Part of the reason, I suspect, was the music itself. Kate Bush occupies a unique place in popular culture. She was never interested in following trends or fitting neatly into any particular category. Instead, she created a body of work that remains as imaginative, emotional and distinctive today as it was when it first appeared. Songs such as Running Up That Hill, Wuthering Heights, Cloudbusting and Hounds of Love have become part of the musical landscape, but hearing them performed live reminded me just how remarkable they really are.
The performers clearly understood the responsibility that comes with taking on such beloved material. Rather than simply imitating Kate Bush, they captured the spirit, atmosphere and emotional power of the songs. The result was a show that felt like a genuine celebration rather than a mere reproduction.
What surprised me most was how completely the audience embraced the experience. There was a sense of joy in the room that is difficult to describe. People weren’t there to analyse technical details or compare performances. They were there because these songs meant something to them, and that shared affection created an atmosphere that was genuinely uplifting.
Emma and my son both enjoyed the evening enormously, which always adds something extra to the experience. Over the years I’ve dragged them to all sorts of concerts, from obscure indie bands to deafening post-rock performances, so it’s always satisfying when a show wins all of us over equally.
Of course, because the evening was going so well, I managed to commit one of my more predictable errors.
I forgot to bring my camera.
After spending years documenting concerts, travelling hundreds of miles to film bands and occasionally structuring entire evenings around getting footage, I somehow arrived at one of my favourite gigs ever without the equipment required to record it properly.
Fortunately, Emma came to the rescue and captured a few clips on her phone. They may not tell the full story, but they’re enough to provide a glimpse of an evening that exceeded every expectation I had.
Looking back, perhaps that’s one reason the concert remains so memorable. Without a camera in my hands, I spent the entire evening simply experiencing the show. No worrying about batteries, memory cards, camera angles or recording times. Just great music, great company and a performance that completely won me over.
The clips below are all that survive of one of my favourite concerts. Thankfully, the memories are much clearer than the footage.
The Photos
Cheers!
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