Music review: Baxter Dury, QMU, Glasgow

Unlikely though it may seem, it has taken Glasgow a while to truly fall for the manifest charms of Baxter Dury, a man of crumpled style, effortless charisma and deceptively eclectic musical tastes, almost certainly stoked by his atypical upbringing as the son of Ian Dury. But we’re here now in droves, Jimmy-come-latelys offering a big bear hug of a reception to this talented performer. The feeling is mutual, with Dury high on the energy from the sold-out audience, practising his geezer tai chi moves and declaring his love at indecently regular intervals.

He's got his daddy's timbre, in case you were wondering – a rough, raspy, shouty delivery which was considerably leavened by the soothing chanson vocals of Madelaine Hart, who handled most of the melodic hooklines with impeccable sangfroid and a touch of harmonic multi-tracking and pitchshifting. Dury Jr is also an economical storyteller, able to conjure evocative scenes with just a few lyrical strokes: “who am I mummy? who am I daddy?” from set intro So Much Money intimating a world of disorientation.

The songs are short and appear simple but are beautifully, imaginatively arranged to fold in diverse flavours, from lean funk to dub to synth pop. Isabel comprised a simple, slightly dissonant vocal tune, lo-fi, tinny synths, sequenced bursts of ringing guitar and an apologetic message, while I’m Not Your Dog was pure hypnotic hoodoo with dollops of drama and Leonfired off bendy basslines and synth arpeggios with aplomb. Palm Trees built to synth ecstasy and then the band circled back to the elastic funk basslines and eerie keyboardsof Miami before the pumped encore of Celebrate Me, a husky Prince of Tears and a big disco dancey finish. Next stop for Dury in this city is surely Barrowland – suits him, sir.