This iconic image, taken on the way to see the amazingly talented Edinburgh musician Hamish Hawk and his band at The Barrowlands last night, is a representation of St Mungo. Painted by street artist Smug, it depicts a contemporary Mungo and the robin he brought back to life – or ‘the bird that never flew’ as referenced in Glasgow’s coat of arms. The detail and quality of this street art is incredible, all the more so for being painted on a random gable end. St Mungo himself is buried nearby, in Glasgow cathedral. Close by is Glasgow’s Necropolis – more of which in a future blog…

But I was on my way to Glasgow’s Barrowlands to see Hamish Hawk’s sold out gig. I’ll be honest, I’d never heard of the guy – but friends who had tickets (rare as rocking horse shit by the way) couldn’t go. Hence we went and I’m so glad that we did.

Dressed in a double-breasted suit, with a baritone voice that could melt a heart at 50 paces, Hamish owned the stage with a band so tight they would put a Swiss watch to shame. The guy has charisma. There were times I could swear he picked me out of a huge crowd, pierced me with strangely hypnotic eyes before sending me one of his easy smiles. It was unsettling, but I think we all felt the same. His songs are not easy pop, no fluff and nonsense here. No, his lyrics deserve more scrutiny than a politician’s.

His penultimate song was The Mauritian Badminton Doubles Champion. How to describe? Imagine Morrissey had been brought back from the dead, his head removed from his arse, rebooted and loaded with the latest operating system and had a personality implant that was actually likeable. We’re getting there.

‘to write a cathedral, i’ll need a ball+point pen

it’ll sound like ‘common people’ sung by christopher wren

on an upright piano with nice, narrow keys

in a glaswegian chapel or a parisian library

and as i sing i watch you diving

into a swimming pool that shines like a screen

and i call out, ‘isn’t this living?’

and i call out, ‘isn’t this living?’

and you call back, ‘jim, dear, it’s living’

and you call back, ‘jim, dear, it’s living the dream’

At one point Hamish introduces himself. ‘I’m Hamish Hawk.’ He regards us all with a raptor’s eye. ‘The band are Hamish Hawk.’ Oh, hold on – there’s that unsettling smile which is definitely going to feature in my next book. ‘And for tonight,’ an arm sweeps to encompass the audience. ‘You are all Hamish Hawk!’

He wasn’t wrong. Like modern day St Mungo, he had us in the palm of his hand.