
words: Paulo Carmona (freely translated by Raquel Pinheiro)
photos: Paulo Carmona
For those who, like myself, enjoy live music, I have this question: Is there anything more pleasurable than going to see a concert by a band you know little or almost nothing about and being surprised by a bomb of energy, good vibes, interaction, commitment, and high-quality musical competence? I guess not!
The Scots Humour are what you call: A hell of a band!
They come on stage with the nonchalance of a bunch of kids and leave it with the mojo of first-rate rockers who have accomplished their mission with distinction.
The room was far from full, perhaps half capacity. Fortunate were those who left their homes on a Thursday night and headed to Maus HÃĄbitos in Porto to welcome them.
Humourâs post-punk is contagious and electrifying. Powerful guitars, a well-marked and sustained bass, cohesive and distinctive drums, and a delirious voice. And up to this point, everything is within what one might expect from a band operating in this field.
The difference lies in the composition, the dynamics, the truth of the lyrics and the performance. Everything very well achieved and finely honed.
The agony of the riffs in the verses gives way to warm, soothing melodies in the choruses, in a kind of emotional roller coaster. This can be heard in almost every song, from Neighbours, with which they opened, through Memorial and Dirty Bread, to Plagiarist, with which they closed the concert.
The name of this band could not be more fitting. The bandâs kindness and friendliness win over the audience.
In conversation with the bandâs good-humoured frontman – Andreas Christodoulidis – I asked him what drives them in this world of songs. His answer was unequivocal: âWe want to give the audience good songs, full of energy, good lyrics, and with that get some good feelings going. Thatâs what weâre here for.â If that was their intention, they achieved it even better than they imagined, because that was exactly what I witnessed.
Weâll be hearing a lot about them! đļ






