If you were expecting to see the typical pomp and pageantry of a male indie rock band, The Snuts’ gig at the Corn Exchange would have been disappointing. The stage, with a bare backdrop and minimal lighting that reflects the band’s choice to strip their new album down to basics, set the tone for the pared-back, more intimate gig. The four-piece band, formed in West Lothian in 2015 by schoolmates Jack Cochrane, Joe McGillveray, Jordan Mackay and Callum Wilson, have returned to touring after three back-to-back records. Their new album, however, marks a shift as they have decided to turn the dial down.
Catching up with the band a few hours before the show, bass guitarist Callum Wilson tells me that their latest album comes from a new chapter of their lives: “We all kind of had kids and moved back home so it was like a really nostalgic feeling.” Their decision to tour smaller cities and venues was a deliberate choice to “touch the places that have never seen that much love”. I speak to the band in the middle of their circuit. Mackay, the drummer, jokes that the highlights of the tour thus far have been “the days off,” but it’s clear that the band are most excited about their hometown gig at the Pianodrome in Edinburgh. Wilson describes it as a “proper hometown show in a venue that’s not really built for these kinds of gigs,” and I get the sense that they are tentatively excited to play somewhere quite literally so close to home.
The age range of their Cambridge audience is diverse; I find myself sandwiched between young teenagers and middle-aged fans. As the Corn Ex reaches its full capacity, The Snuts open with ‘Gloria’, a rapid, Fender-esque single from their third album Millennials. Wilson tells me that Millennials was “made entirely on the move.” He adds, “We found our inspiration in the movement; where we were going, how fast we were living. You can hear that because everything in the record is going 100 miles per hour.” The certainly wacky but nonetheless upbeat opening lines – “When I met you at the Tescos / Fighting for a TV, let’s go” – set the tone for the rest of the gig.
“I think a lot of this album has been about being more reserved”
With the audience now enthusiastic and primed, Cochrane, the lead singer, introduces their new single ‘Summer Rain’, continuing the fast pace of the set. The audience receives their new music well, but I find myself unable to ignore the rather bizarre gospel-esque sound of ‘Summer Rain’ in the chorus’s ascending melody and lyrics: “Open up your arms and let me in”. Wilson confesses earlier that this single was particularly tricky to make. It initially “didn’t feel quite right,” and so it ultimately became a practice in the art of subtracting: “I think we can throw quite a lot at the wall sometimes, so I think a lot of this album has been about being more reserved.”
This reservation kicks in after the initial crowd-energising tracks. The minimalistic lighting is something I find particularly striking: as they play their iconic single ‘Glasgow’ – an ode to their Scottish roots – bright white light diagonally shining against a blue backdrop evokes an image of the Scottish flag. Cochrane jokingly asks the audience whether they can even understand his accent, but no regional dissonance impedes the crowd’s participation; they gleefully sing along, “I’ll always love that you say Glasgow”.
Their earlier singles such as ‘Elephants’ and ‘The Rodeo’ certainly go down well with the crowd and, played live, these tracks become even more reminiscent of an angsty version of The Kooks or Kings of Leon. The crowd rapturously receives these sonically thick tracks, and indeed most of the set, because it was formed with their appetite in mind. As Cochrane introduces their hit singles, he admits that these classics are “less enjoyable for the band,” but that they have deliberately resisted the urge to self-indulge in a mainly new-music setlist in order to please their fans.
“This record has been much more considered […] the writing and mapping are much more mature than where we were six years ago”
Later in the set, the band return to tracks from Millennials, released back in 2024. Cochrane introduces ‘Circles’ as his favourite track and self-effacingly admits that he imagined the song being so successful he would “buy a Lamborghini, and my son would go to Cambridge,” eliciting a few laughs from the students in the crowd. There is a notable synergy between the band members as they play their earlier tracks, which is not always the case with indie rock bands. It is certainly helped by the fact that they have known each other for most of their lives. “We went to nursery together. I’ve known [Mackay] for 27 years,” Wilson reminisces. Mackay, less chatty but consistently droll, jokes that they “like to share hotel rooms because we get lonely on our own.”
Despite having known each other since childhood, their debut album, W.L., was released just six years ago. The band explain that they have been making music together long before they secured a record deal. Unsurprisingly, their music-making process has developed drastically: from messing around playing over songs acoustically at 15, to recording during the height of lockdown “locked in a farm with two conspiracy theorist producers,” to now recording at a home studio. Their latest album is the most calm and thoughtful thus far, I’m assured by Wilson: “This record has been much more considered […] the writing and mapping are much more mature than where we were six years ago.” Although occasionally poetic, lyrics such as “Why did I ever leave here? / The grass ain’t always greener […] / So why don’t we go / To the motherlands” read as rather prosaic and cliché.
The penultimate song they play, ‘Millionaires’, is an upbeat track with ’80s-influenced synths and slightly on-the-nose lyrics that critique society’s focus on “monetary and materialistic gain and success,” but nonetheless reinvigorates the crowd. Ending on a high by returning to ‘Always’, their most popular track, the crowd lap up the fuzzy guitar riffs punctuated by Cochrane’s almost snarling voice. As the night draws to a close, it becomes clear that despite the gig’s lack of bells and whistles, the band’s choice to satiate their fans’ appetite for their classic tracks is more than satisfying for the crowd.
