It’s subtle, but there was change afoot at Glasgow Green last weekend. A wander around the grounds of TRNSMT 2024 was a tonic for veterans of the festival, with a renewed focus on nooks and crannies that transported punters away from Rockstar Energy anarchy and towards a holiday atmosphere crammed with variety, recycling stations, mental wellness initiatives and good clean fun. 

At The Hangout (a new enclosed pub garden a stone’s throw from the River Stage) acoustic acts were singing covers, and a ceilidh band was teaching the crowd traditional dances. In Jägermeister Platz (a pop-up nightclub locked in a perpetual 2am party), dance acts like Kintra and Beyond Chicago were stirring up a vivid atmosphere worlds apart from the teen-infested Boogie Bar. And in the Reset Area, rest and relaxation was prioritised with beanbags, a marquee, and a Radio 1 Photobooth where fans could have their photos taken alongside their favourite acts. 

These wholesome quality-of-life improvements felt like progressive steps in a lineup that was, at first glance, tiresomely conservative; Liam Gallagher, The Snuts, The Courteeners, Example and Dylan John Thomas have visited Glasgow Green so often that they may as well be given a commendation for years of service, while each headliner could best be described as a safe pair of hands holding plenty of joys but few surprises. Yet, the preponderance of repeat offenders only tells half the story of a festival teeming with variety for those willing to seek it out. So that’s exactly what we did this year, hopping between genres with the alacrity of a well-curated radio station. 

Embodying the sunshine happiness of Friday was Jalen Ngonda who opened the Main Stage with a blend of soul that repackages the sultriness of Gwen McCrae or Gladys Knight for modern audiences. This slight-framed singer has a major case of ‘tiny guy, massive voice’ syndrome, drawing in an early doors crowd with his effortlessly amiable disposition and assured songwriting. From there we moved onto The Scratch! a band of merry Irish metal heads who seem to have travelled from a multiverse where The Pogues teamed up with System Of A Down to combine heavy headbangers with sudden lapses into manic folk jigs. Delightful nonsense, and the perfect kind of head-scratching genre mash-up that loosens up a crowd in the mid-afternoon. 

Down by the River Stage, where the hip bands come to perform, Heartworms was providing those lucky enough to catch them with the coolest gig of the weekend. Dressed all in black and punctuating her songs with slick dance moves, Jojo Orme drenched the crowd with songs of pure gothic romance and terror. This is a band you can imagine playing in an old Dario Argento flick: moody but never lacking in pure neon drama. 

Bringing drama of a different kind was The Last Dinner Party. They’ve been written about ad nauseum but with good reason; they’ve hit at the right time with finely crafted songs like ‘The Feminine Urge’ and the mega-hit ‘Nothing Matters’, making every live show a blisteringly successful victory lap. Fun, theatrical and with a charisma overload that could win over even the sexist ‘industry plant’ bores on the internet. 

Onto Saturday, then, where Irish fuzz pop merchants NewDad were opening the Main Stage with a particular kind of 90s throwback that, while arguably a little indistinct, is best described as solid, the kind of romantic swirls and minor chord progressions that put Lush and Pale Saints on the map. 

The same couldn’t be said for Soapbox, an unhinged Glasgow punk act whose lyrics are so scabrous that we may actually be sued if we put them online. Bellowing about ‘yer da’s’ sadomasochistic tendencies, the horrors of privatisation, and Prince Andrew (you can guess the thrust of that one), singer Tom Rowan cuts an entertainingly flailing presence, both crazed and funny. Let’s hope their feverish energy never lets up. They were a complement to Gallus, who closed the River Stage on Saturday in a whirlwind of pure post-punk chaos (read our chat with Gallus guitarist Eamon Ewins here). 

In the sunny haze of Sunday, CMAT took an early morning slot to finish the Irish thread that had run through this year’s festival, elevating her country pop through the sheer heft of relatability and vulnerability, her phenomenal voice echoing through Glasgow Green as though it was powered by pistons. She was almost matched on the River Stage by Majesty Palm, a Glaswegian synth pop four-piece sprinkling the air with a shimmering sound that was otherwise missing from the bill. Their appeal lies in part with frontwoman Olivia McCosh's unassuming presence in between songs, striking that balance between nonchalance and likeability. 

In a similar vein to CMAT, veteran songwriter Alison Goldfrapp attracted a surprisingly sparse crowd of people in the late afternoon despite pulling out classic after classic. Every live encounter with Goldfrapp is a reminder of the audacious hooks that have littered her work since day one, dipping their toe into campiness without resorting to kitsch. There may not have been many people in the pit, but the lucky few who stuck with her were treated to a performer who can imbue pure pop with an irresistible disco sheen. 

On the other side of the festival, Rachel Chinouriri was making her debut on the King Tut’s Stage and riding a wave of goodwill after the release of her well-received first album, What A Devastating Turn Of Events. The same charisma that pulses through that album is on display here, bolstered by the effortless power of Chinouriri’s vocals (read our chat with Chinouriri here).

It’s testament to the busy folks at DF Concerts that we were able to eschew the usual ‘review the big-hitters’ formula of coverage and focus on some legitimately niche and musically diverse acts across the three biggest stages. No one could claim the brand had confounded its conservative image, but there’s much more than meets the eye across TRNSMT.

Main picture: Hope Holmes.