Steve Conte and the Crazy Truth

Glasgow Soundhaus, 6th December 2011

Steve Conte and the Crazy Truth

When I was seventeen, I dreamt of owning my own nightclub (as you do). With red velvet draperies, leopardskin sofas and smashed mirrors and glittery guitars adorning the black walls, in my head it was a byword for decadent, sleazy chic. And if my dream had materialised (no thanks, on sober, grown up reflection), Steve Conte and the Crazy Truth would have been the house band.

Instead, they're playing the Soundhaus, a scummy warehouse in the middle of a spaghetti junction of Glaswegian motorways, the city's least well-stocked bar in a hall decorated like a community youth centre.

Oh well.

Not that this bothers Steeeeeve. Released from the 'day job' (currently playing with the superb Michael Monroe), he seems genuinely delighted to be playing his own tunes to a (somewhat raggedy-arsed) crowd of people who are here purely to see him.

With his Cuban heels, tight leather pants and impossibly hip hair, Conte is the go-to guy to inject a bit of street smart New York cool into any line up. A veteran of bands as diverse and fabulous as Company of Wolves and the New York Dolls, he must be one of the hardest-working guitarist on the rock circuit at the moment.

But how can anything be classed as work when you're having this much fun?

Ripping through pretty much the entirety of the eponymous Crazy Truth album, from a laid back 'Truth Ain't Pretty' to a scorching rendition of 'Gypsy Cab', he smiles, he jokes, he tears out those lean mean riffs, throws some shapes and we're all revelling in it. Gritty, sexy, melodic and very New York, the album is sprinkled with the sassy glitz of the Dolls; it's great on your iPod but even better live, rock'n'roll in its purest, rawest form.

Interspersed are covers that celebrate Conte's rock'n'roll roots, from Little Richard to the Ramones (hmm, sounds like a line from a song…), Eddie Cochrane (and the moodiest, dirtiest version of 'Summertime Blues' I've ever heard) to, of course, the New York Dolls, and a rousing, anthemic chorus of 'Pills' that sees support acts Christie Connor-Vernal and Homesick Aldo up on stage for a gloriously noisy jam session.

Like the Quireboys' Spike, Conte appears to be a man who truly lives for rock'n'roll, music coursing through his blood like oxygen. Thank you, Steve, for keeping the dream alive…

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