20,000 hockey bugs . . . .

. . . . And each a Drive By Argument fan!

When you're in a band that's achieved even a modicum of success, you come to expect them plaudits of the unusual variety. The kooky fan, the kooky fan letter, the kooky fan letter with the pictures. But even Drive By Argument would have to admit they never saw this one coming.

Last year, the five-piece Ayr outfit learned its debut single, "Sex Lines Are Expensive Comedy," had become quite popular with members of a certain professional sports club. And no, it wasn't a footie squad -- it was the National Hockey League's New York Rangers. The team took to playing the song as its skate-out music and rather quickly it became a fan favorite at the Rangers' home arena, Madison Square Garden.

Not too shabby, especially when one considers Drive By Argument's origins: They initially formed as part of first-year course work at University Of Paisley; the five members were involved with the school's Media, Language And Music program, before taking a year-long sabbatical to focus on the band.

Druve By Argument were locked up by American label Lizard King Records back in May. Both an EP (November) and LP (early spring of 2007) are forthcoming.

Hear it for yourself. Download: "Lower Your Pieces" by Drive By Argument.

Novel indeed

Billed as the world's premier new music convention, In The City has been chugging along for close to 14 years now. Founded in 1992 by Yvette Livesey and Factory Records honcho Tony Wilson, the event serves two purposes: during the day, music industry bigwigs gather to talk shop -- and twist their moustaches and hatch schemes to further destroy pop music; at night, the shindig becomes a music festival (allegedly the biggest city-based music festival in Europe), as unsigned artists are showcased at various venues throughout the host city (which is typically held in Manchester; one-time sites have included Glasgow in 1997).

In The City has helped launch the careers of countless acts, including Oasis, Doves, Suede, and The Stereophonics. More recently, the festival played a hand in kickstarting the career of Glasgow's My Latest Novel. Since performing at In The City back in October of '05, this five-piece outfit has performed at the 2006 T In The Park, done a support slot for The Pixies, and inked a deal with Bella Union Records. But not in that order.

I discussed My Latest Novel rather briefly back in July, but felt the need to revisit them after finally landing their debut album, Wolves (thanks Joel!).

"There is without doubt, a character to Scottish music because we tend to still be very much a Scottish race and don't have a large immigrant population," Graham Weir, a lecturer in popular music at Napier University, said in this article. "So Scotland tends to have its own kind of music -- usually guitar-based."

My Latest Novel, however, aren't bridled by their six-strings; they build upon that ancient guitar template, garnishing their sound with violins, xylophones, peculiar percussion instruments. The result is a work fraught with anxiety and absolution -- an album that fills the listener with a heightened tension, rewards with a much-ached-for release, then starts the cycle anew before one's had time to bask in the afterglow. Scotland hasn't heard a release this labyrinthine in years.

Hear it for yourself. Download: Wrongfully, I Rested" and "Learning Lego" by My Latest Novel.

To a sweetheart, a bodhran

So the teetotalers were assigned to one particular table: right smack-dab in the middle of the reception hall, the furthest point from either bar. The alcohol was flowing like the Liffey, but we didn't care. We made exotic animals out of our cloth napkins, oogled the bridesmaids, and conquered the dance floor.

One hour left before we were all to be evicted, we extended our campaign to include the band. While the thirsty lads satiated themselves, we hefted their instruments and began to belt out a tune. Behold, The Temperates! Never, in the history of Ireland, has a wedding band sounded so mellifluous. Of course, we were of the sober sort and our crowd was in fine fluthered form -- this helped immensely. Regardless, when all was sung and done, even the band applauded our efforts.

These old hands come alive when playing the bodhran. I pretend its an overgrown bottlecap and I'm lumping up some grotesque demons. Later, the owner told me the instrument was made with kangaroo skin, which is what I learned many of the newer models are being outfitted with. I couldn't contain my smile. "Oh my, next you'll tell me your uilleann pipes are crafted from koala." He was stricken with laughter; he was drunk.

We belted out a handful of spry ditties, all picked on account of the special occasion. Two are listed here, played infinitely better than us by the much acclaimed Boys Of The Lough: "Hillswick Wedding/Robertson's Reel" and "La Grande Chaine/The Newlyweds' Reel."