Another severe weather warning, another hair-raising trip up the road to Glasgow. And another support slot for Dumfries's finest warm up band, the Dirty Angels. Although even they, with their infectious upbeat bar room rock, are finding it hard to breathe warmth and life into the empty, icy wastes of the Barfly on a Tuesday. Thankfully, most of the twenty-strong audience are their friends, so their reception isn't as chilly as the air, but while it may be stormy outside, it's not exactly what you'd call stormin' in here.
Fortunately, Adam Bomb is either very short sighted or simply doesn't care, because he takes to the tiny stage as if it's Wembley Arena, and doesn't seem at all phased by the dearth of audience. But hell, he's not proud - he stiffed everyone for a raffle ticket to win a T-shirt before the gig even started, for crying out loud. 'Support rock'n'roll!' he lisps through broken teeth in the tones usually reserved for the phrase 'Big Issue, mate?'
But surely nobody (except maybe the Quireboy's Spike) embodies the rock'n'roll dream turned nightmare more beautifully and disastrously than Adam Bomb. Perhaps the greatest rock legend that never was, Bomb has hung out with the likes of KISS, Guns N'Roses, Johnny Thunders, Mike Monroe and Chuck Berry, but never hit the big time himself. Now lurking somewhere in his forties, he cuts a slightly freaky figure, like a cross between our favourite Hanoi Rocks frontman and Ronnie James Dio: skinny as a whip, with long black hair covering the wreckage of a face that still boasts cheekbones to die for.
But, as his latest album proclaims, he does indeed rock like f*ck, treating us to a short but electrically energetic set that mixes Van Halen style geetar-widdle maestry with down'n'dirty AC/DC boogie rock and, believe it or not, a cover of 'New York, New York'. With gorgeous Italian stud Paul Del Bello on bass (never has a man been more aptly named) to supply the extra eye-candy and a seemingly bottomless box of fireworks to supply the stadium pyrotechnics (in the Barfly! You gotta love this man.) there is never a dull moment at an Adam Bomb gig. Mixing killer riffs with tongue-in-cheek humour ('If This Is Love I Want My Money Back' is a title worthy of Jim Steinman, after all), the music and the man are a distillation of the spirit of late 1970s and early '80s glam.
And so, I implore you, next time Mr Bomb rolls into town in his people carrier to hit a pub or village hall near you (and believe me, he will - his MySpace page has a gig list a mile long), be there. Support rock'n'roll, in its most raw, unaffected, entertaining, crazy and downright hilarious form.