Despite last year's Goodness being my first proper introduction to The Hotelier, I can't help but feel they are the band my heart was yearning for about seven years ago, which is about the time they first formed. The band blend the strands of Biffy Clyro and angst, the two flavours of choice throughout my high school years.

On their second visit to Glasgow, they play Stereo, an appropriately tight basement venue in which to broadcast their sound. That latest record is well represented, with the one-two of 'Soft Animal' and 'Sun' showcasing a duo of the stand out tracks, whilst an encore of 'Opening Mail For My Grandmother' was a fittingly endearing end to the evening.

Euphoric singalongs of 'Your Deep Rest' and 'An Introduction To The Album' made me guilty of my unfamiliarity with the band's second - and perhaps seminal - record Home, Like Noplace Is There. There's a late New Year Resolution in there, and I hope to be able to scream along those same lyrics should the band return.

Like those aforementioned Scottish rockers, The Hotelier's sound borders on epic, yet unlike that trio they have a much more tangible grip on emotional songwriting. Starting with Christian Holden's lyrics and crooning vocal performance, and ending with some enthralling loud-quiet flows on the instrumentation, the Massachusetts outfit know how to jerk a tear.

Despite starting 15 minutes early, following a swift soundcheck, the band simply launched into their set with gusto, and the tentative Glasgow crowd was likely treated some additional tracks to make up the difference, which is an unexpected treat. Throughout the set, Holden gives sincere thanks to the crowd, and they respond thanks in the form of singing and dancing.

There's no frills here, just an emotive band who've traveled thousands of miles to play to their eager fans, and at the end of night everyone appeared to have lifted spirits, and surely that's all the matters? Gratefully received, The Hotelier's dynamic emo-tinged sounds are welcome in Glasgow, and it was a pleasure to watch them play, and to be part of such an emphatic crowd.

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Gigs where you feel you're amongst a privileged few to have witnessed something special, rather than part of a well entertained mass, are few and far between. Seeing Pale Angels play to a criminally small audience earlier this week was though one of those times.

As power trio performances go this was surely up there with the best that Bob Mould et al have pulled off in their time. Racing through a set of tunes from current album Daydreaming Blues as well as its predecessors Imaginary People & Primal Play, this was a tight and visceral show from a band clearly happy to be on the road whether filling halls or playing to a man and his dog.

The trio barely drew breath between numbers, other than to thank folk for turning out on a Sunday in December, battering along as if their lives depended on it (or at least because some heat was needed on stage). In the meaner margins of the indie scene it's the likes of Pale Angels who're slogging away so that you can get the buzz of a life-affirming show in your veins - keep an eye peeled for when they return and get your fix.

In support tonight there was the opportunity to see Lachance play a more compact space than afforded them when in Dundee on the BYAF bills. Not that they don't do the Buskers' stage justice but seeing them in a smaller & more intimate space, allowing for roaming amongst the crowd, along with the bonus of a longer set time, seemed to show them in their most natural light. Tight as ever you'd not have thought they were easing in a temporary drummer.

Having missed new act Bright Notes at the very start of the night things had been kicked off for me by a third viewing of the Joyce Delaney show in 2016. This year's been a bad one in many ways but the Glasgow trio certainly let you know all about how they personally have been messed about by the passing of the last 12 months, all the time laughing it off and being certain that 2017 will be better as they'll make it so. Yet again it proved impossible to disagree with them.

I started out my Yellowcard fan career with a CD or two loaned from a friend, and now I have *ended* it with a free ticket to their last ever show in Glasgow, so it's certain that the fun-cost ratio of this band has been pretty phenomenal for me. Being the first and last time seeing this band, the set resembling a greatest hits record was something of a blessing, showcasing to me the band's highlights throughout all those years I missed since Paper Walls. 

Whilst the set was suitably mixed up, I can't help but feel that playing a reverse order retrospective ending with 'Ocean Avenue' would've been highly appreciated by the crowd, but they do have considerably more than one album after all. 

Playing 23 songs in total, the usual quartet is expanded to a quintet by stand-in drummer Jimmy Brunkvist of Like Torches, who put in a blistering performance, outshone only by the charisma of violinist Sean Mackin and his skills in getting the crowd fired up. With a career spanning set, the band's emotive and distinctive brand of pop punk had the Glaswegian whipped into one final flurry for at least two hours. 

Frontman Ryan Key's sincere introductions and heartfelt thanks strung the night together, as he explained the gravity of certain songs, and simply inspired some powerful sing-alongs like you would expect. From the rousing opener 'Believe' to the euphoric closer 'Ocean Avenue' the band took control of the venue and showcased why their art has sustained then for 20 years. 

The intense one-two of 'Gifts and Curses' and 'Cut Me, Mick' towards the end of the set were particularly enjoyable, with the emotion of the slower songs like 'Sing For Me' providing some respite throughout the lengthy set. Overall, if this quality is replicated on ever night of their extensive tour, then Yellowcard will be leaving their fans with hoarse voices and fond memories, which is the most you can really ask for, and a fitting end to a band some would consider legends. 

Bands playing an old, classic album from start to finish live is nothing new but Yes are, offhand & with no recourse to Google, the only example I can come up with of an act touring two historic albums at the same time. They, however, don’t seem to do so chronologically whilst, tonight, Super Furry Animals do. It’s 20 years since the band debuted with Fuzzy Logic and 19 (an equally important anniversary as Gruff Rhys points out) since they followed it up with Radiator. On a personal level it’s also that long since I’ve been to see them play.

You probably can’t describe SFA as a cult band but they do inspire cultish devotion from their fans – for a couple of friends somewhere in The Usher Hall tonight this will be the fifth of the band’s show’s seen in 2016 and of the recent ‘nostalgic’ gigs I’ve been to this is the one to generate most annoyance when people have discovered they’ve missed it (something a more obvious advertising campaign may have dealt with). Newly purchased band hats & scarves are therefore much in evidence amongst the crowd.

Initially there’s an unpleasant reminder of the show I saw here last month as the sound for opening track ‘God! Show Me Magic’ is ropey – mix all over the place, Gruff’s vocals practically inaudible and then the drums seem to be ahead of the pace. A cringey beginning that is thankfully sorted out swiftly. After that point things go as you’d expect so there’s no reason to get that concerned about the setlist despite it being the easiest one I’ve probably ever had the chance to detail. Safe to say it was a far more enjoyable show than my only other experience of such an event, Pet Sounds at Primavera Sound in the summer. Knowing what’s coming next puts you in a curious position anticipation-wise (not unenjoyable) and you at least know what you won’t be hearing, unless there’s some ‘best of’ encore (which tonight there isn’t).

Indeed playing the band’s recent Best Of : 1995-2016 album Zoom! it struck me how many slow numbers they’ve had out as singles & that, at least lumped together on one album, they don’t greatly appeal to me nowadays. Handy then that Radiator is my favourite of the band’s albums, with everything on it feeling a good fit in any order. Its rendition is unfortunately interrupted for around ten minutes early on due to the PA being blown, which just goes to show that when SFA rock out they have the riffs to beat all-comers.

There’s not a great deal of chat tonight (fittingly there's a minute's applause for Howard Marks between sets) but that’s not to say that the band appear to feel they’re there to just do a job – there’s a clear communion between crowd and group that speaks volumes and which comes to a rapturous head when they finish things off with the obligatory ‘The Man Don’t Give A Fuck’, as apt a statement about the UK today as it’s ever been. Long live SFA.

Support tonight came from local duo Man Of Moon, who went down pretty well with the sparse crowd that was in the hall at that point (they were on around only ten minutes after doors open so not a great deal of time for folk to filter in). I’ve managed to miss seeing them at a couple of events in the past 15 months or so therefore it was handy to have now seen what they can do live. They were clearly undaunted by the size of the venue but I suspect that a smaller room is where they really get into their stride so I’ll need to keep an eye out for the chance of witnessing that.