Idlewild on Early Shows, Glastonbury, & Globetrotting : A Handstamp Interview
From Handstamp, an interview with Roddy Woomble, lead vocalist of Scottish band, Idlewild, on life in the Inner Hebrides, the band’s new record, the Bowery Ballroom, and more.

This interview originally appeared on Handstamp
Between Sigur Ros at the Royal Albert Hall, as well as the release of One Battle After Another and it’s vibe relative Getting Killed by Geese, it’s been a tremendous few weeks for transcendent experiences, as far as I’m concerned. Heading into a time in which my social calendar is now intentionally experiencing a shutdown, I’ll be trying to hold onto these morsels of excitement, instead of striving to find the next fun thing, for now.
Somebody who has dealt with that search for more at different stages of his life is Roddy Woomble, lead vocalist of Scottish band, Idlewild. Woomble has spent years living in major cities around the world, absorbing new cultures at turbo speed, but now finds himself living at a slower pace, on a sparsely populated island off the coast of his homeland, taking life as it comes. Most recently, a self-titled, 10th studio album came to life, but just before the record’s release, I spoke to Roddy about where his lifelong quest of music discovery began.
Roddy Woomble: “I was BORN in Irvine. I only lived there for six years though. I moved around a lot when I was younger, but my family are all from Dundee, so I’ve got real associations with the East coast of Scotland. I’ve always moved around, but I live in the Hebrides, for the past 16 years I’ve lived in the Scottish Islands.”
Handstamp: “Right, so where would you have been exposed to live music for the first time?”
RW: “Well, my mum and dad weren’t really music fans like that. I mean, they had some records and tapes. I remember listening to tapes in the car, usually ‘best of’ compilations. But then my older sister, Kirsty, got into music in a big way in her teens and that’s where my music taste came from.”
She took me to all of my early shows. My first gig was The Pogues at The Playhouse in Edinburgh in 1991, with Kirsty. Then we went to see My Bloody Valentine shortly after that.”
Handstamp: “Oh, you started in outrageous fashion. A lot of first gig stories you hear are Backstreet Boys, or something else radically different to what the guest ends up being into.”
RW: “Yeah. Then I lived in America from age 13 to 15, that’s when I kind of got into the music I like, because I had friends who played in bands and I had actually started a band myself, but there wasn’t really any opportunity to see bigger shows in Greenville, South Carolina, especially as you have to be over 21 go to most clubs. So that’s why, when I came back to Scotland, suddenly my sister could take me to all these show’s I’d be excited to get to. We even went to Glastonbury together in ’92, which was really cool.”
Handstamp: “It’s great you guys had such a strong relationship, built on music it seems. So, you were around 15 at your first Glastonbury?”
“I’d come back from Glastonbury full of hope, after being surrounded by so many like-minded, creative people.”
RW: “That’s right. We even saw Nirvana at Reading Festival that year too. We’d just go to so many shows, because it was cheaper back then, you know? I’d get tickets for my birthday or Christmas. I was addicted to it. I would buy tickets to see a band, rather than buying their records, because it was actually cheaper to do that. We didn’t live that close to any venues, so my teen years were spent going to Edinburgh and Glasgow on the bus.”
Handstamp: “I mean, what a time capsule. It’s a brain-bender now that a show would be cheaper than listening to the music, in a world where you can listen for free and you have to sell your house to see most shows.”
RW: “Well, CDs were pretty expensive in the 90s, so I would buy tapes mainly, or I’d tape from my friend’s CDs and give it back to them. Most gigs were still between £5-10 to get in, so it was still cheaper than a CD.”
Handstamp: “Just how mind-expanding was Glastonbury at 15?”
RW: “Oh, it was amazing, in many ways. I’d been to gigs, but Glastonbury involved a massive journey towards music. So, we used our parents’ wee car, then Kirsty drove down from Dundee to Glastonbury, with two of her friends. We stopped and camped along the way, with excitement growing as we got closer.”
In ’92, Glastonbury was only about 50,000 capacity and we bought tickets three weeks before, so it wasn’t how it is now. Then you’d get close to the festival and everyone in their cars seemed to have a vibe that you identified with, they were into art and music, up for a good time. I remember wondering where all of those people lived, because they weren’t anywhere near my small town in Scotland. I remember that part more than the music itself.”
I’d come back from Glastonbury full of hope, after being surrounded by so many like-minded, creative people, you know?”
Handstamp: “Did you go back regularly after that?”
RW: “Yeah. It made a massive impression on me, so I went four times as a punter after that, before we started playing it in the late 90s. Always a magnificent time.”
Handstamp: “What life-changing performances do you remember seeing there?”
RW: “PJ Harvey. We were quite innocent and camped beside the Pyramid Stage, then just sat there all day, so we’d watch whoever came on. The only time we went elsewhere, to the NME stage as it was called at the time, was for PJ Harvey and Blur. At that point it was just the NME Stage, Pyramid Stage and the Acoustic Stage. A lot of dance and circus stuff going on too, but for the main music stages, that was it. I saw Lou Reed there too. But the thing I remember most is that feeling of not being alone, it felt like a sort of tribe you could belong to.”
Handstamp: “Agreed. I know that Glastonbury evangelism inspires eye rolls from some, but it definitely has a certain feel. I’ve been to loads of festivals, but when you’re on the grounds, it feels like it’s the only place on Earth.”
RW: “Yeah. Some other festivals get close and to be honest, my tastes would probably now be more aligned with attending smaller festivals, as a punter, because the big ones are so vast, you know? I’m not at the age where I want to stay up all night anymore either, so there’s that.”
Handstamp: “So, you guys formed when studying in Edinburgh, how much of a difference did it make for you to be in closer proximity to musical communities and established venues?”
RW: “Well, I must say Edinburgh’s not necessarily known for live music, Glasgow is the musical city in Scotland. I went to a lot of shows in Glasgow, but I went to Edinburgh because I studied photography. I liked Edinburgh as a place, but all the shows in Glasgow, so we just always got buses to go to gigs.”
Weirdly for the band, it was actually quite good that we formed in Edinburgh, because there weren’t many bands coming through from Edinburgh, so we had a bit more attention, just simply from being outsiders in that way. There were so many bands that started in Glasgow around that time like Mogwai, Arab Strap and loads of others. It helped our band’s identity.”
Handstamp: “So, would you never play Edinburgh yourselves?”
RW: “It’s got a few places. One of the good things that happened to us is we found a place called the Castle Rock Café and we’d play there every two weeks. That was a brilliant stage to learn on because it wasn’t full of people that were necessarily music fans, it was literally just people who wanted to drink. Then we’d be this noisy band playing, so we actually got pretty good because we weren’t playing in front of people who were judging us or stroking their chins, we had to understand the value in trying to entertain. We had to tap into an energy that we may not have tapped into otherwise.”
Handstamp: “Interesting. So you had to learn how to work the room before really carving out your identity fully?”
RW: “Yeah. I used to play drums in bands before Idlewild and I realised pretty early that you need to recognise that at whatever level, you’re the entertainment for the night. So, I try to never forget that, no matter how much time I spend thinking about the lyrics and appearing as this thoughtful rock band or whatever. That comes from playing rooms where nobody know or cares who you are, early on.”
Handstamp: “That makes sense, I can see the benefits. When the band travelled for those shows in Glasgow, which venues became your haunts?”
RW: “Sonic Youth, Pavement or any of these big bands would play Barrowland Ballroom, which is a 2000 capacity venue and if you’re Scottish, that’s the place you want to play. It’s big but it’s got a ballroom vibe. But Glasgow had a lot of great clubs, like the 13th Note Café, which was kind of the catalyst for a lot of up-and-coming bands. The booker there was Alex Kapranos, before he went on to be the front-man of Franz Ferdinand. He has great taste in music, so there would always be great bands on there, both local and touring. Then King Tuts, which is famously where Oasis were discovered but it was a really good club when we played there a lot.”
But yeah, Barrowland is the one. It feels like a club despite being much bigger. It has a lineage of amazing music that’s been there for 40 years and you feel that when you perform there, you’re part of that chain. You’re exchanging your ideas to a crowd, in the same way that I had these inspirational bands exchange them with me. A lot of memories in the walls, you know?”
Handstamp: “Between then and now, you’ve moved around regularly, before settling down a bit more in recent years. Has that been related to music specifically?”
RW: “I’ve been transient my whole life really and obviously that’s why being in a band suited me, because I was used to never being anywhere for longer than a few years. I think it’s human nature, everybody is always looking for the next thing they’re going to do until they get to a certain age, then they settle in on what their life is. I mean, I’m not totally at that age yet, so I still feel there’s always somewhere else I could go or something I could do, but it’s really informed a lot of the work that I’ve done. The idea of searching for something, you know?”
Handstamp: “Where did you live in London?”
RW: “I actually lived on Great Ormond Street, which was quite mad. I’ve got loads of pals who live in London and no one could ever believe I lived there. It was right across the road from the big hospital. I was staying in a friend’s room in a house, basically in Bloomsbury, which is strange because not that many people lived around there. The only sad thing was, being so close to the hospital, the pub on the corner that we’d go to would often be full of parents in floods of tears, so it would have that kind of vibe sometimes.”
But when I lived in London, I was really busy with Idlewild, so I was never really in the flat for longer than two weeks at a time. I didn’t feel like I LIVED in London, as I didn’t have a job there, or have to commute on the tube or anything like that.”
Handstamp: So, I guess you didn’t have the time to see a bunch of shows then?”
RW: “Actually, I did! I went to see loads of shows when I was there. I went to The Garage quite a lot.”
Handstamp: “I know it well…”
“Nobody really wants to play a vast arena, they’d prefer to play these places that feel intimate, but are a wee bit bigger, so they still feel like events.”
RW: “Yeah, it was great because I could walk to a lot of shows. I used to go to The Bostom Arms in Tufnell Park. My friends liked a lot of the music that was breaking through there, including The White Stripes actually. Some gigs at the Brixton Academy, or The Forum. Cinemas was my main thing though, because I’m a big film fan and lived so close to some great cinemas, where you could get a black coffee and a cigarette, because you could still smoke inside, watch some French or New Wave films. Pure old school.”
Handstamp: “I guess that proximity to different forms of cultural output is a big part of what took you to New York as well?”
RW: “Yeah, I lived there just after London, for a year.”
Handstamp: “Where would you see the most shows in New York?”
RW: “We spent quite a lot of time touring America, so I had a VISA and I rented a friend’s apartment for a year. I did like it, but I also felt it was a better place to visit after a while. Once you live somewhere for a while, you realise it’s not the same as when you visit and America’s obviously quite a strange, complicated place. That’s why I moved back to Scotland, because I felt like I’d had enough of that kind of experience. But yeah, in New York, I’d visit the Film Forum a lot for films, but I’d be out every night, seeing shows at The Bowery Ballroom, The Mercury Lounge and Max Fish.”
Handstamp: “The Bowery Ballroom is the venue that comes up most commonly in these conversations…”
RW: “I love it. Idlewild have played it a few times. I think the reason is because nobody really wants to play a vast arena, they’d prefer to play these places that feel intimate, but are a wee bit bigger, so they still feel like events. It’s like The Barrowland, as I mentioned. Special place.”
Handstamp: “I agree. I think a great ballroom or theatre is the gig sweet spot. It feels special, but the intimacy with the audience remains.”
RW: “Yeah, I agree. That’s why I love it.”
Handstamp: “Well, you chose to make a huge shift in lifestyle, atmosphere and now live in the Inner Hebrides. Was that pretty enormous change of pace something you felt you needed?”
RW: “A number of things, really. I’ve always felt a connection with the Scottish Highland Islands. I’ve always gone there since I was young, the band have written a lot of music in the Highlands. I also had a child in 2008 and it was a bit of spur-of-the-moment decision. I was living in a flat in Glasgow, so we found a cottage to rent and I’ve never looked back.”
Handstamp: “I know the island you live on has a low population, do you have to tamper some of that searching you spoke about?”
RW: “Because it’s so small, it has a great community. It’s a great place to have the benefits of the remoteness, but the remoteness also brings the people in the community closer. It’s a wonderful place, it’s very unique because of the way it looks and feels. It gets a lot of tourists, so actually feels quite busy sometimes. It’s been brilliant for me, even artistically because people want to visit.”
Handstamp: “Has a lot of Idlewild music been written there then?”
RW: “We wrote a lot of songs in the local library, which is not really a functional library, rather just a hall with some books in it. But yeah people want to visit, because you can do that, then have a bonfire and go swimming in the sea.”
Handstamp: “You’re making me jealous. I imagine it’s quite jarring living in that solitude and when an album cycle comes along, you are catapulted into a fast-paced month or so. Is it an unwelcome shock to the system, or does it actually add balance?”
RW: “Well, it’s not the same as it was, you know? From ’95 to 2010, we were on that major label conveyor belt, we were a busy band. We are pretty much an independent band now, since coming back 10 years ago. We don’t have international labels now, so just play in the U.K. and that’s fine, because we’ve had that experience of playing around the world, which I’m very grateful for. It feels like we’re back to where we were when we started in a way and that’s where we feel most comfortable.”
But yeah, it’s not like we’re away for ages, we just go away for two weeks at a time. I look forward to the shows too, love getting to go to different places. We were surprised by the recent shows selling out, but that should lead to more fun opportunities next year.”
Handstamp: “So, having been around the world and been such an avid supporter of live music for so many years, you must have a wide-ranging list of favourite shows. Can you pick out some of the gigs that have impacted you the most?”
RW: “I’ve seen a lot of good gigs but one of my favourites of all time is Patti Smith Group at The Village Underground in New York City, in 2001. We were out there recording with Lenny Kaye, who was the guitarist for the group. Patti was warming up for a European tour with two nights at the club, which is 300 capacity. I ended up going both nights, I was a major fan and it was just mind-blowing. She is so impassioned, it’s rudimentary rock & roll with a punk rock spirit, but it’s just pure art. It made you feel like anything is possible, which was the feeling I loved originally when I first started going to shows. Lou Reed was standing next to me on one of the nights, which makes it a sort of ultimate New York experience.”
Nirvana at Reading was amazing, the first time I saw R.E.M., seeing Dylan. I’ve been very lucky and I am glad I saved up to see shows when I was young, because that feeling is very important to me. I loved paintings, books and films, but live music inspires such an unbelievable combination of feelings.”
Handstamp: “Couldn’t agree more. New record out, how excited are you to see how the songs connect with an audience?”
RW: “Excited about the record. We don’t take it for granted, the fact that people are still interested in our band after all this time. So, it’s really good for us. Every time we approach a new record, we treat it like we’ve never made one before, which keeps it kind of fresh. We’ve never had an attitude that people are definitely going to want to hear our record, or whatever. So, when people actually respond, it’s lovely.”
It’s going to be great to go into shows where we know people want to hear the songs. In any good show, the audience and band make the show together, don’t they? That anticipation from the audience is half the show already, all we have to do is not be shit..”
Idlewild released their latest album Idlewild in October 2025. Since this interview, they have played a run of ‘out-stores’ across the U.K, which were confirmed by fans as NOT shit.
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