With a classical musical education that included one of the more difficult incarnations of the bagpipe as well as a solid grounding in traditional violin and piano, Martyn Bennet's sudden discovery of the Glasgow rave scene brought about one of those happy cross-fertilisations that have been producing 'genetically modified' crops since time immemorial. Call it evolution or call it playing with creation's basic building blocks - 'and no good will come of it!' - if it tastes better and has a longer shelf life then it's got my vote. Music writers love bands like Hardland. It gives them a chance to stretch their journalistic muscles and contive brand new crossover hybrid musical genres that will help them to pigeonhole the 'new' sound by likening it to it's forebears in some convoluted concatenation of stylistic simplifications.

I can't blame them of course. The temptation is great, and funnily enough, from time to time, they do hit the old nail on the head.  Suffice it to say that Bennett has managed to develop a type of Frankenstein's monster that not only rips the heads from small children and dances on their bones, but also manages to do so with a hardcore clubland flourish.

The compere gave out a warning before the set started. 'Some of you may remember Martyn from last year. Things might get a little, erm - excited - soon, so you might want to think about moving back a little bit.' Whilst many of the beardy types took the advice, there were three times as many who risked whatever perils might confront them by surging to the front of the stage. For the first and only time during the whole festival we found security guards between the crowd and the stage.

Like a beacon shining out across a grey and overcast ocean, Martyn Bennett's Hardland gives us the belief that in a world of the mundane there are still a few islands of hope rising above the waves.

John Bownas, Virtual Festivals.com

Martyn Bennett can also be heard on Glen Lyon , Martyn Bennett  , Grit and In the Sunny Long Ago.