Glasgow is Scotland's largest city and a popular tourist destination, but it has never quite lived down its reputation for edginess and random violence.
On a Saturday night in 1978, I stood on the top floor of the Strathclyde University Students' Union building, looking at the thick nets strung across the deep stairwell at each floor level. These were in place in case over-refreshed students toppled over the banisters. The joint was full way beyond capacity, and the crowd was very drunk and very excited.
I was there as a music journalist, traveling with a band called Blondie. Up until a week before the show, Blondie had been no more than an underground phenomenon known to a few cognoscenti -- which is why the tour had been booked at modest college venues and clubs. But the band had just made its debut on British television, and Debbie Harry was a star overnight. At her previous concerts on this tour, she'd taken the stage wearing a signature white mini-dress. For Glasgow, she was persuaded to wear jeans and a huge sweater.
It didn't matter. Once the crowd saw her, it surged. I was standing under the PA system, and it swayed like a tree in a hurricane. There were no encores, and I am amazed the band got out of there alive. As someone said, "They wanted to eat her."
Late that night, back at the hotel, Debbie sipped a cocktail demurely. A young woman, about to conquer the world.
Kim Davis, Glasgow
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