The Edge

Formerly T On the Fringe

It is the day after the Edinburgh Fringe has ended. The streets are deserted and quiet.

Had Warpaint played Edinburgh twelve months ago, they would most likely have checked in at Sneaky Pete’s or Cabaret Voltaire.

Kristin Hersh cuts a slight but forbidding onstage figure.

In amongst the overload of theatre, comedy, cabaret, burlesque and pretty much every other artform known to mankind (barring cinema), Edinburgh in August is also home to a pretty good musical selection for the discerning gig-goer.

A friend and I caught the end of Kassidy’s set in King Tut’s on Saturday at this year's T in the Park.

As August approaches and another jamboree of music, comedy, dance and theatre comes Edinburgh’s way, Mika, Dizzee Rascal and Plan B are just some of the headline acts confirmed for this years Edge Festival.

Once again, I must admit to being drawn to a band largely on the strength of their name. Carolina Liar - where did that one come from? Well, a little research revealed that lead singer and guitarist - and while we're on the subject of names - the almost impossibly named Chad Wolf, originally hails from Charleson, South Carolina, so we're starting to see a connection here.

They don't do "Shot By Both Sides". There are looks of dismay on certain audience members faces as the lights go up at the end of Magazine's first Edinburgh show in almost thirty years and they haven't played their debut single and most famous song. Clearly, there is no room for nostalgic, ageing punks tonight.

The Indelicates are first on stage tonight and they turn a few heads with their Clash tinted, overtly London accented front-man and stationary, piano playing front-woman. The songs are petulant and self-consciously self-aware

The St Andrew's boys are back from their UK jaunt with a string of Scottish shows. As well as enduring a disappointing appointment with Glasgow depressives My Latest Novel - who seem to have travelled into some sonic backwater since a couple of months ago - the audience were subjected to the worst sound quality, as the hundreds of conversations happening in The Queen's Hall swirled around like nails in a tin mouth.