Cleo Reed is a star in the making, there’s no two ways about it. Opening up tonight to a shockingly empty QMU, she’s got the crowd eating out the palm of her hand by the end of her set, a few hundred strong by that point. This is her first tour, which she’s managing herself, befitting the DIY, activist streak that permeates her songs. ‘Salt n’ Lime’ appears unexpectedly early, showing off Reed’s sense of narrative and musicianship in an epic eight minute package. ‘Strike!’ sees her abandon the guitar altogether for a double-mic’d, rap banger (crowd participation: questionable) before ‘Always the Horse, Never the Jockey’ ends things with a country-adjacent stomper. Reed got pickpocketed a day earlier (in Leeds, a city she seems to think is a quaint “college town”), but she brings her Cuntry a-game to “rough and rugged” Glasgow.

Brittney Parks, bka Sudan Archives, does not fuck around. The QMU has a capacity of less than 1000 (and certainly isn’t sold out tonight), but she brings her own stage to put on top of the stage. Like the opener, she’s prepared for arenas and will make her own platform if one isn’t readily available. She’s enters in full ‘gadget girl’ mode, in jerky movements with a flying-V violin harnessed to her shoulder, bow held in a quiver behind her back. A few exaggerated clacks on a futuristic-looking computer and we launch into ‘DEAD’, the ecstatic opener from this year’s The BPM, and then ‘NOIRE’ with its epic percussive bass that Parks beats out of a midi pad. She prowls the stage and yields her violin like a weapon, eyeing the audience up and down with her piercing contact lenses – a better opening ten minutes you’ll be hard-pressed to find.

And it simply kicks on from there. Almost all of The BPM is played, creating a dance atmosphere that the album embodies; jersey club, Detroit techno and Chicago house all jockey for space, punctuated by violin plucks and fevered bowing. The bass is heavy, the programmed drums are crisp, Parks’ vocals fluctuate between rapping (‘MY TYPE’), singing and hoarse shouts (‘MS PAC MAN’). The latter is a rare glimpse at the raw edge that The BPM has mostly polished away.

She remains committed to her cyberpunk persona for the most part, but her glee and enthusiasm prove too much at times as she breathlessly thanks the crowd, exhorts them to get down and even delivers ‘Freakalizer’ amid her people at the barrier. And fair play for getting a “titties out” chant going during ‘NBPQ (Topless)’ from a somewhat reticent crowd. She seems slightly confused about the difference between Scotland and Ireland as she calls for a baby Guinness and later plays a fiddle romp after bigging up “Irish culture”, but she’s had a busy couple of weeks flitting around Europe so we can cut her some slack.

By the time of the encore, and ‘THE NATURE OF POWER’ and ‘THE BPM’, the immersion into the world of Sudan Archives feels complete. Either no time has passed or we’ve been here forever, but it’s clear that the ambitious potential of Parks’ career up to this point is ready to be fulfilled.