Peter Murphy Classic Grand Glasgow 2nd August 2010 Dame Murphy of Northampton is in da Haus. All glam rock feather boas and the 'Man Who Would Be Bowie'. He owns the stage. However in place of Saint Vitus we get the occasional glimpse of Saint Cunt; his trademark pout becomes a curled petted lip.

Most likely due to the moderately sized audience of first wave goths who grace the Classic Grand on a Monday night. Ostensibly a precursor to his 'Ninth' studio album being co-produced by David Baron at the helm, Mr Murphy and co. present the 'Dirty Dirt' tour - a phonetic take on 44 in Turkish. And it's true we do get to see the dirt; unlike a Bauhaus atmospheric performance, Peter gives us a gig; technical onstage difficluties which eat into the mood.

Pete freezes the shapes we know and love him for while the hired hands struggle with 'Stigmata Martyr' and he battles the beginning of 'All We Ever Wanted Was Everything'. Bugger. You can hear the weeping in the audience and some punter offers to play it for him. This show was 18 bucks a skull tonight for fuck sake!

However it is with Pete's solo material that the richness of his voice sits most comfortably. The newer songs from 'Ninth' are muscular rockers in which he and his band are particlularly convincing. 'Strange Kind of Love' from the 'Deep' album segues into a neo-folk version of 'Bela Lugosi's Dead'.

Pete has lost none of the command of stage and audience and remains the consumate performer. Tonight he was human; not undead but very much alive. Simultaneously embracing and rejecting the Bauhaus legacy We look forward to Mr Moonlight's return.

Though we wont be holding our breath.

Lovely Feyde Rautha.