Overpass, Tuna Pasta and a Sold-Out Corn Exchange

Support slots can be cruel things. Too loud and you’re dismissed as filler; too restrained and you disappear into the background entirely. However, by the time The Wombats were ready to headline at the Edinburgh Corn Exchange, Overpass had already done something that few bands can perfect – claim the room without trying to dominate it. From the opening moments of their support set, it takes less of a role as an audition, more of a showcase of a band asserting themselves, highlighting what they’re steadily becoming.

Formed just before the world stalled, Overpass are a band shaped by interruption. Lockdown derailed an awful lot of things, however it also gave space to write properly, to let songs grow without fear of deadlines or spectacle. That patience shows love. There’s nothing rushed here. Guitar lines breathe, choruses land with intention rather than brute force and the band themselves maintain the subtle assurance of people who know exactly why they’re on this stage.

Max Newbold’s vocals cut though cleanly, earnest without tipping into affection. It’s a voice built for closeness rather than distance, inviting rather than demanding. Around him, the band operate as a unit, with bass and drums locking in with a certain looseness that conveys trust, the sound of a band comfortable enough with themselves to let moments linger. There are moments that nod cleanly toward their inspirations – the widescreen moments of early Coldplay, the patient emotional pull of Kings of Leon, the melodic sincerity of The Sundays – but nothing feels borrowed outright. Instead, the influences act more as scaffolding, with Overpass providing their own, bespoke finished structure.

There’s also a quiet honesty in how they talk about their current momentum. Touring isn’t glamourised and writing isn’t mythologised. Even the album they’re teasing comes humorously framed as something unavoidable rather than strategic, it simply has to exist. That attitude bleeds into the performance, with nothing feeling inflated for the room. Instead, the Corn Exchange seems to gently stretch around them.

And yet, moments before walking onto that stage, the very same band who filled out the room were sat with us at Microphone Tax, laughing about the woes of an unnamed member stinking out the tour bus with their tuna pasta.

One of the most refreshing things about watching Overpass is how little they play into the mythology of ‘the big support slot’. There’s no exaggerated reach for the back of the room, no obvious crowd-baiting. Instead, they trust the songs to do the job they were written to do – connect with the audience and stick with them. By the time they leave the stage it’s met with an applause that’s earned and there is a growing sense among the crowd that they’ve just witnessed a band in the ascendency.  

Overpass are honest about still figuring out who they are, learning on the job and writing based on where they’re at as opposed to where they’re expected to be. With a new album on the horizon, their process, however ‘no frills’, however fuelled by late nights in lockdown and tuna pasta is working. Not as an arrival, just momentum.

Listen to the full interview on Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/episode/16wUVhQdGeVySYPBoW1qLv?si=x8leEU4oQlWwJ4lMjTKl2Q

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Recent Posts

Follow us on social media

Access our archives

Discover more from Strathclyde Telegraph

Subscribe now to keep reading and get access to the full archive.

Continue reading