Sterling Scruff

Having prepared an extensive list of questions in anticipation of interviewing the bescruffed one – on topics ranging from the inter-artist relationships at his label, Ninja Tune, to the ubiquitous poser on student fee rises – your intrepid reviewer was dismayed to discover that Scruff was too bent upon perfecting acoustic arrangements and preparing for five hours’ straight jockeying of discs to have his collar felt (not literally, he was wearing a t-shirt) on the subject of online music piracy.

When doors opened, however, Mr Scruff’s decision to persevere with his twiddling of knobs was vindicated. A slightly shrunken Venue 1, not only displayed the versatile nature of the room, but created a more intense atmosphere that was echoed by the subtle decor – a far cry from the usual Friday night Bop space, with its barren expanse of floor. Securing such a well-known name for the Auld Grey Toon was something of a coup for the man in charge of events, Rollo Strickland, and Saturday was something of a showcase for how good the Union can really be – a healthy mixture of locals and students was in evidence, and with high numbers of pre-sold tickets on top of impressive door sales – an 80-strong inter-University party of debaters were rumoured to be proposing a motion or two – it would seem demand is high for similar acts, even in this distant corner of Fife.

As Mr Scruff – known for being his own warm-up act – got going, so too did the crowd. A travelling tea shop erected in a corner did a roaring trade in the DJs own brand of cuppa, whilst, on stage, the music evolved from a chop ‘n’ change of reggae vinyls (with appreciative locals enveloped in a distinctly herbal aroma that may or may not have had anything to do with the teas) to a heavier vibe that set many a floorboard rumbling and a foot thumping. Here, your reviewer’s careful notes become slightly illegible – memory furnishes, however, the details of a great video of Scruff’s own drawings being played in sync with the music, adding an extra dimension of ‘wobble’, with hordes of felt-tip spiders jumping around a cityscape emblazoned with ‘St Andrews Uni’ in time to the bass. I was going to tell him that it was actually the ‘University of St Andrews’, but I didn’t have the heart.

Despite the competition of several other events that evening, the Union still managed to pull off a considerable success, with the floor rammed right up until the 2am closing. Certainly one Union hack was inspired to dub the Mr Scruff gig “bloomin’ brilliant” (italics mine). And so it was. Hopefully the student populace, and indeed the town, can look forward to more big names coming up next semester. As for Mr Scruff, give that man a knighthood.

Written by Jamie Perriam, standing-room-only writer