Return to Glory

I last saw The Supernaturals at King Tut’s in December 1999. Almost 20 years on, the venue hasn’t changed, but the band has. There was a brief moment of panic when I thought singer James McColl was the only original member onstage. Looking closer, I saw Mark Guthrie on bass - sans curls - and original, original member Gavin Crawford on drums. At their peak, Alan Tilston was the stick man but Gav had been there first. Ken McAlpine tickled the ivories then, but now he was replaced by the very young and attractive David Currie on keyboard – the attractive part being the opinion of a lady beside me in the crowd who also said James had “aged like a fine wine.” I’m only here to tell you about the gig!

A notable and surprising absence was guitarist Derek McManus. Having penned a track on the band’s most recent album Bird of Luck, he seemed to still be very much part of things. On stage James said he was currently enjoying a break at Her Majesty’s pleasure. Off stage, I was told that just as the album came out, Derek found himself no longer able to be part of the band. Joe Greatorex was introduced in his place and although a very worthy substitute, I’m sure the fans agree that it will be great to see Derek back in his rightful place. Mr McManus – you were missed and I hope you find yourself able to rejoin the group in the not too distant future.

In a stroke of genius, the band opened with Everest. This was always their finale back in the day, putting it at the start was like joining the dots between then and now. The crowd seemed to be of an age where they were all at those 90s gigs, and the atmosphere was instant; a very, very clever way to get the buzz going right from the first note.

It was three songs in before James addressed the crowd: “What have you been up to for the last 20 years?” He later disclosed that he apparently had been working on his own 5-aside football team; he is now the father of three wee boys. And there was a twinge of sorrow as he confessed that they usually tell him to shut up and play Old Town Road when he tries to sing his own songs.

This is the beauty of an intimate venue like King Tut’s. The 300-strong crowd at the sell-out gig now share in-jokes about owls and Sir Cliff Richard. The fact that the venue hasn’t changed across the years added to the nostalgia of what really was a homecoming gig for the band.

In tribute to this, the set was largely made up of pre-2002 tracks. From the two albums recorded since the band reformed in 2012, Horse Song, Negativity, Well Well Well and Bird of Luck were nicely sandwiched between the old favourites like Lazy Lover and Sheffield Song.

As a songwriter, McColl’s deep, meaningful and sometimes heart wrenching lyrics are overlooked because they are presented in smiley, happy packages. If you don’t believe me, consider the first line of their biggest hit – every silver lining has a cloud. Dung Beetle (eleventh on the set list) is a song about suicide and in the absent track Motorcycle Parts, McColl sings as the female in a bad relationship long before gender identity was a mainstream issue. Returning to these tracks as 40-somethings, the irony of “I’ve got a backache, I’ve got a neck ache, I’ve got a toothache and I need a break” was not lost. But the realness of many of his lyrics, from encore track I Don’t Think So to the more recently penned sentiments of not being able to let go of old lovers were all the more poignant.

I hope King Tut’s never changes and I hope to see The Supernaturals there again. This was a gig no-one wanted to end, from the crowd to the band themselves. Great job guys!