Glasvegas front man James Allan is - it seems to me - misunderstood.

His songs have been called ‘heartbreaking’, his lyrics hailed as touching and poignant. He's been called the Scottish Morrissey by Alan McGee (McGee says Glasvegas are the most exciting thing he's heard since The Jesus and Mary Chain) and a purveyor of emotionally haunting poetry by everyone from The Guardian to Lisa Marie Presley to, well… me!

Glasvegas stand out track ‘Daddy's Gone’ is a beautiful song. Voted runner up in the NME’s tracks of 2008 issue, it’s Allan’s personal take on growing up with an absent father. ‘Daddy’s Gone’ is the single that’s earned Allan the reputation of a serious songwriter and a powerful lyricist - ready to take on tough and emotive subjects - but ask the man himself and it’s a different story…

“I had a really good upbringing so it’s not like I’m playing the martyr,” he tells me, the heavy Glasgow accent somewhat difficult to decipher for a man like myself, from the gin and tonic belt of Surrey. “When I wrote it (‘Daddy's Gone’) I was not sure if the band would like it. They quite liked it so we kept playing it.

“In Glasgow and all across Britain and I’m sure all across the world it is just such a common thing. To be honest I don't know that many parents that are still together. It's just such a common thing that I didn’t know that I was saying anything that was gonna affect people that much.
“I was really surprised by the reaction to that song. I really thought I was just talking about a really normal thing that everybody knows anyway. It's so common these days - you’re probably aware of it yourself?”

Yes James… I am indeed aware of the pains of domestic fragmentation; only unlike you I haven't managed to pen a heart-wrenching anthem on the subject. But then, I'm nae from Glaesgae now am I (ya wee coont)!

Glasgow is doubtless the toughest city in Britain. Its infamous East End (from which Glasvegas all hail) is talked of with hushed reverence and its notorious tenement housing blocks are universally recognised as making your local high rise look like an exclusive retirement home for the perpetually gay.

Despite this, Glasgow’s recent crop of indie bands have failed to really capture the city’s gritty character - preferring instead to reflect the wanky scene surrounding its art school (Franz Ferdinand we mean you!).

“I’m sure there were a lot of good bands coming out of Glasgow at the time we were getting together,” says Allan. “It just so happens that I don’t really know them.”

Glasvegas truly are original and unique. At a time when there were a lot of bands in Glasgow all reflecting that samey, generic (Franz Ferdinand) indie scene, they went in a different direction. Allan tells me this was largely because as a group the band were quite insular, being separated from the more mainstream art crowd by a shared love of specific musical genres.

“Basically it was just us lot hanging about really,” he says. “We really love a lot of 50s music, a lot of doo wop music. Early 60s girl groups and stuff. And a lot of the time you don’t really get that in clubs, so we’d spend a lot of time hanging out at Caroline’s (drummer Caroline McKay) place just listening to that kind of music.

“I think a lot of us getting together kind of happened inside if you know what I mean… indoors. So I think maybe we missed a lot of what was happening out there (Glasgow’s indie scene) but I don't really think we were that bothered. I think we kind of just used to have our fun, so a lot of that that went on in Glasgow we didn’t really know what happened.”

The Glasvegas look and sound owes much to the 50s and early 60s. The songs have an epic and tragic feel and the lyrics are poignant; dealing with themes ranging from senseless murder, family breakdown and the pressures to conform to macho stereotypes. All sung with the type of unashamed Scottish vocals not seen (or heard) since The Proclaimers.

It’s a sound that's gaining notoriety among pop’s elite (as well as McGee, Glasvegas can count Tim Burgess, Carl Barat and Andy Bell as fans) and is tipped by most of the music press to rule 2008. Despite the acclaim though, Allan remains as refreshingly down-to-earth as his humble Glaswegian roots would suggest he’d be.

“It's probably better that your expectations are not really that high,” he says on the prospect of 2008 being a massive year for the band. “We'll just see how the gigs turn out. They seem to be going well though.

“The kids have been turning up and they know all the words to the songs and stuff. It’s really exciting actually, seeing them knowing the words to your songs. When we were playing in Liverpool it was weird seeing the scousers trying to sing in a Glaswegian accent because I sing in one - it comes out in this weird fucking accent.”

And what of the weight of expectation. Do the band feel pressured by the praise… All the journalists saying they’re the next big thing?

“I think I’d feel more pressure if nobody gave a fuck,” says Allan. “But then I don’t think even that would bring any pressure. Half of us were never even musicians to begin with so how can we feel the pressure of expectation?

“When you’re only doing it to express yourself, there can’t really be any pressure. Being like that makes you pretty invincible to it. It's just pretty cool really. We really value it. People getting the songs and getting the band. We really gave ourselves to the music but there was never any pressure on us really.”

Glasvegas are releasing their debut album this year to what will doubtless be critical acclaim. They’re already getting compared to The Arctic Monkeys, which is some indication of the kind of hype to come; and it looks like they could be the next band that unites the critics and the masses in that truly massive way. They play Barfly on 12 February.

My advice… Be there while they're still in touching distance (ya wee coont)!

Glasvegas play the Barfly on 8 February and Koko on 15 February 2008.