“Glasgow” hums like a barroom confession—rough edges, honest words, and just enough melody to make it hurt. The Mekons never needed polish; they needed truth, and this one bleeds it.
It’s punk growing old without losing its accent.
“Glasgow” hums like a barroom confession—rough edges, honest words, and just enough melody to make it hurt. The Mekons never needed polish; they needed truth, and this one bleeds it.
It’s punk growing old without losing its accent.
We use cookies to improve your experience on our site. By using our site, you consent to cookies.
Manage your cookie preferences below:
Essential cookies enable basic functions and are necessary for the proper function of the website.
These cookies are needed for adding comments on this website.
Google Tag Manager simplifies the management of marketing tags on your website without code changes.
These cookies are used for managing login functionality on this website.
Statistics cookies collect information anonymously. This information helps us understand how visitors use our website.
Google Analytics is a powerful tool that tracks and analyzes website traffic for informed marketing decisions.
Service URL: policies.google.com (opens in a new window)