Staring out the window of KFC into the neon lights of downtown Glasgow in the rain, you’d be fooled into thinking you were watching Blade Runner. A shit Blade Runner filmed in a city crushed by the iron fist of Thatcher on a budget of £50 & a multipack of Marathon bars. Anyway, our fried chicken-based pitstop resulted in our missing openers Psychoanalysis. Arriving just in time for Angelus Apatrida, Latin for Rather Decent Spanish Thrash Band I’d Never Heard Of, they launch into a full pace, balls out thrashgasm in the vein of Kreator & Exodus. The Glaswegian crowd did their part for international relations by ending their set to a rapturous chant of “Gracias”.

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