On a Friday evening in Glasgow’s Shawlands, Son of the Right Hand gathered fans and music lovers at a buzzing Glad Cafe for the launch night of their EP: ‘Pscenic Root’.
Self-described as “folkadelic nugaze”, their sprawling EP blends spectral folk with psychedelia and post-rock, rooted in emotion yet remaining focused.
The venue was sold out and as the band assembled on stage, Palestine flag in hand, the energy was tangible. Live, the EP tracks bring more edge and depth. ‘Bad Tooth’ opens in a haze of reverb; all slow and brooding, the guitars contort and pull you in. Then, the drums and soaring vocals come and completely envelope the listener on a raw sonic journey, one full of tension.
Next ‘Anhedonia’ offered a more danceable moment; the fuzzy guitars and melodies creep inside your head and get stuck there. The rhythm section never paused for breath and as a result got the whole venue moving before the track we’d all been waiting to hear live: ‘Refuweegee (The House Isn’t Full)’.
This lead single was released in collaboration with the charity Refuweegee and sits nestled into the heart of the EP. Live, the complexities of the sonic arrangements reached every corner of the room. The arrival of the bagpipes shifted the room, a sudden, unmistakably Scottish swell that sharpened the song’s emotional shape. The textures of the track converged into patriotism and the “refugees are welcome here” chants echoed through the venue in a beautiful display of solidarity.
‘Kilter’ was an unexpected highlight. After a two-minute intro, it offered a comparatively gentle and delicate follow up to the complex sound of ‘Refuweegee (The House Isn’t Full)’, Sheridan’s vocals dance around the sonic elements of the track, both haunting and hypnotising the crowd, the lyrics some of the band’s strongest to date:
“I’d been a freefaller till they threw me the rope/ Aren’t you grateful now you’ve somewhere to go? No/ For I who clung too tight and always obsessed/ Let it pull me to surface while it chokes me to death/ One woman’s sense is another’s madness.”
The last track on the EP is the aptly named ‘Closed Doors’. Quiter, but no less charged, Stewart’s spoken word acts like a confession: “can you hear me now?” the opening line asks, sorrow bleeding through both the lyrics and the instrumentation.
Son of the Right Hand’s EP launch was not just a playback of tracks, but a reminder of how sharply their art connects when its stretched out into a live space. The set danced the line between abrasion and tenderness with complete intent, even when arrangements threatened to spill over, their conviction held everything together. ‘Pscenic Root’ is not an end point, but the moment the band step fully into their own sound.
