Thirteen years ago, if anyone had intimated that floppy-fringed Scottish art school student Roddy Woomble, frontman of blissfully chaotic indie-punk outfit Idlewild - once described, brilliantly, by a certain music weekly as sounding like 'a flight of stairs falling down a flight of stairs' - would one day set up home on an island just off the west coast of Scotland, blog about the joys of hill walking and write songs about 19th century crofters, they probably would've been written off as stark raving bonkers and carted off to the nearest loony bin. In 1998, no one really expected this ragtag ball of relentless energy to mellow out and produce wistful folk music, but looking back now, the signs were always there: the melancholic subtext in the lyrical material, the frequent exploration of themes of identity and nationality and especially, a strong preoccupation with a particularly Scottish aesthetic, reflected prominently in the band's visuals and artwork. Woomble has taken a perfectly logical journey to the place we now find him, his experiences having shaped him into a brilliantly reflective, endearingly delicate and wonderfully wise artist, capable of commanding and captivating his audience.
And so it is that on this refreshingly quiet Spring evening, deep in the heart of Newcastle's picturesque Ouseburn, Roddy has the undivided, rapturous attention of 400 or so over-eager, yet unfailingly polite, Geordie hearts and minds; a veritable full house for Cluny 2, the more refined elder brother of the infamous drinking hole. This mismatched bunch, of all shapes, creeds, genders, persuasions and musical affiliations, hang on Woomble's every word, mesmerised by the tales of self-realisation on the steps at Edinburgh Waverely or the odes to the M87, the road that snakes up towards the well-populated metropolis that is the Isle of Skye. Perhaps it's this verisimilitude that makes his work so accessible; in peppering his lyrics with snippets of day-to-day life, Woomble grounds his lyrics in an endearingly honest and open form of realism.
Thus, we mouth the carefully-crafted words (there's no singing in this most polite of environments, you understand) and immerse ourselves in the deeply personal experiences that Woomble deigns to share with us. Often, the climate is a decidedly uplifting one, particularly with the tracks from new record 'The Impossible Song and Other Songs' which, despite having been released into the wild a meagre twelve days ago, receive as warm a reception as the more familiar material. On current single 'Roll Along', Roddy provides us with a much-needed reality check, marrying a tale of perseverance to a lilting, countryfied boogie, while elsewhere, there's a celebratory calm and content to the elegiac 'Gather the Day' and 'Make Something Out of What It's Worth', guaranteed to force even the staunchest of frowns into an appreciative smile.
There are highs in the older material too: Idlewild track 'Take Me Back to the Islands' is a most welcome surprise and an unquestionably perfect fit; 'I Came Down From The Mountain' is spectacular, riding along on the crest of the eminently talented Sorren Maclean's lullaby-like picking. 'The Weight of Years', tonight's closer, is stunning too, with a world-weary Woomble perfectly conveying the tired, yet reflective, melancholia at the heart of the song. It's a decidedly sombre note to finish on, particularly following a note-perfect rendition of Idlewild's biggest chart success, 'You Held the World in Your Arms' which, after nine long years, still has the power to send shivers tingling down the spine (aided admirably tonight by Seonaid Aitken, who provides live violin parts for probably the first time in the song's long history), but ultimately, it feels logical; the set is essentially a journey through the inner workings of our host's psyche, moving from jovial celebration to contemplative reflection and finally, to contented resignation at life's inherent transience.
For all Roddy Woomble may not be the angst-ridden, bile-spewing art school punk he once was, that certainly doesn't denigrate any of his achievements. Having matured into one of the finest poets - and yes, folks, that what he is - of our generation, the Idlewild frontman is only just scratching the surface of his unquestionably wealthy pool of talent and tonight's Cluny 2 show is proof positive of that fact. With an audience so rapturously attentive and a set this superbly crafted, this could never be anything other than a resounding success. Truly beautiful stuff.
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