Xiu Xiu, Nice N Sleazy, Glasgow

, now back to a guy / girl line-up, albeit this time with a different girl, are still very much on form. A night characterised by solemnity, emanating from head honcho Jamie Stewart, tonight’s gig is oddly punctuated by a kind of down-to-earth niceness it’s easy to forget they’re capable of. Hesitant and perhaps awkward at times, their show is simultaneously tight. Commanding silence through their delicate strums one moment, smacking cymbal towers at the next. No banter, no homo. Between songs only gurgles on a glass of water greet the applause.

The severity of Stewart’s face and his demeanour on stage establish an almost snobby, untouchable seriousness. They are an intimidating band at times. Yet, every once in a while something happens to change your perception: they make a book of photos featuring Stewart squatting on the toilet, they have ‘FUCK YOU’ t-shirts on the merch table, yet they politely say thanks and wave goodbye at the end of their set. At first it might seem confusing, but it’s just a little paradox; sincerity is a property Xiu Xiu have in abundance.

They play for a good while and cover a lot of bases. Their new two-piece line up means they have to rely on a busy backing track, but a crowded stage would surely be in danger of disturbing Xiu Xiu’s ethos and aesthetic. The moments, or even songs, where Stewart warbles and touches his guitar so gently, completely unaccompanied, would frankly feel odd with a gang waiting for their cue behind him. Yet, one girl, his friend, poised with drum sticks in hand, bird-call whistle around her neck, almost seems necessary.

Occupying the stage exactly how you’d expect them to, they have a real presence. A real sense of hours of practice, of dedication. Who could make an album called ‘Dear God, I Hate Myself’ and not aim it at adolescents? Xiu Xiu. They’re on some other shit. Some trip beyond. Literary in the sense that fans and poseurs ache to know what he really means, but genuinely obtuse and obscure enough to create an impenetrable castle of semantics. This band are fucked up. Where do they fit in? It’s weird. It’s very human.