Spaced in the City (1)

For the past decade, there has been a strong connection between Glasgow's visual art and music communities: whether Dominic Snyder moonlighting as jazz saxophonist, Franz Ferdinand referencing a ruck at the Transmission party, or Ultimate Thrush thrashing the hell out of an opening at SWG3 - let alone Tut Vu Vu and The Gummy Stumps, bands which are equal parts art project and musical experimentation - the two scenes have become intermingled. Whether it is a case of rock'n'roll trying to adapt the seriousness of visual art, or an increasingly conceptual art practice feeding on rock's visceral immediacy, sound and vision have become creative collaborators throughout the city.

Spaced In The City consciously programmes bands and art together: detached from the more rigorous and conceptual art of galleries like SWG3 or the anarchic confidence of The Glue Factory, Spaced looks towards a more inclusive art, while booking a diverse variety of bands, from the folky Blocestra through to the all-out metal of Holy Mountain.

The Roots and Ruins event, situated within the Barras Market, emulated the atmosphere of a festival - stalls to the side, bands on rotation, artists working live and responding to the music. The opening act from Blocestra - an orchestra that reworks familiar numbers through an ensemble that includes ukuleles and a brass section alongside electric guitars - set the tone: inclusive, gentle, familiar and welcoming.

The aesthetic of Blocestra echoes the similar approach of  The Arches Community Choir: the emphasis is on musicians getting involved, and framing popular tunes as ensemble anthems. As a unit, Blocestra have become tighter, and the range of instruments replaces the complex production tricknology of songs by Gorillaz, while the inclusion of the odd Waterboys' track is a reminder of their antecedents in folk.

Although Roots and Ruins included bands from across the musical spectrum - North Atlantic Oscillation follow a pop-rock template, Galoshins sweeten garage rock with touches of twee indie pop -  Blocestra nicely reflect the ethos of Spaced In The City. Like the artists drawing and painting to the beat, or the small exhibitions of photographs around the edged - and evidenced by the wide age and social range of the audience - they recognise the folk traditions of community. There is a slight incongruity in some of their musical choices, interpreting songs which have single definition versions by the original artist rather than using the usual cover version choices: yet this sums up the way that rock'n'roll has become something more community than individualistic.

The bricolage sound echoes the structure of the programme - photography, painting, music, projections from Jamie Wardrop, vegetarian food and a DIY version of the lottery - of popular culture reformulated into a happening. Easy on the ear, escaping the rough rituals of rock'n'roll, Spaced In The City is a winter one-day festival that picks up on the Glastonbury style of family orientated entertainment.

My Producer Harry Loves Holy Mountain

I've changed my mind about rock, mainly because I have been listening to Holy Mountain. It is not a moribund culture, stuck in the past, but a vital, playful force in a constant state of reinvention.

There's this wonderful short story by Borges, that explains how a man decided to rewrite Don Quixote. Although Pierre Menard's version ends up being exactly the same as the original - word for word -  Borges concludes that this Quixote, because of its context, has a completely different meaning. Holy Mountain are a bit like that, only in place of delusional old men and murderous windmills, they have Big Riffs and Heavy Metal Thunder.

It's a bit unfair to peg Holy Mountain as Black Sabbath imitators: what they understood about 1970s blues-inspired heavy rock is that all the fripperies - pretend Satanism, pompous stage shows, meaningful lyrics - only get in the way of the power and the glory. They do have a habit of turning up for gigs around Halloween, but they substitute all the nonsense for a vicious, tops-off ferocity.

So far, they've only released a mini-album on Chemikal Underground which captures something of their live excitement - they recorded it in under a day, so it has the rough, punky energy - but is missing the sight of three men rocking out, hair and sweat flying and the bludgeoning riffs. It's difficult to talk about Holy Mountain without getting into clichés: the joy of their gigs is how close they get to self-parody without ever losing the power. It's like enjoying two gigs at the same time: an unselfconscious metal marathon, and a clever post-modern deconstruction of macho absurdity.

Plus they do an incredibly sweet version of Starry Starry Night, but only if the crowd asks for it.

Live gigs for Holy Mountain...

25 October @ Nice'n'Sleazy (Free)
3 November @ Spaced in the City