OVER the past few months, Stina Tweedale and her bandmate Shona McVicar, aka Honeyblood, have been quietly going about the business of becoming proper underground indie sensations.
In May they played not one but two severely oversubscribed shows in a day at Stag and Dagger.
They signed to revered indie label Fat Cat, and their self-titled debut album has been picking up amazing reviews internationally, particularly in the US.
It was BBC 6 Music's Album of the Day, and has been warmly received by Pitchfork, The Guardian and The New York Times, who described them as "a shouted Greek chorus of disappointment."
This was the official launch of that record: a low-key hometown gig in the tiny Old Hairdresser's on Renfield Lane.
Despite it being just the day after T in the Park - the quietest, most hungover night of the year - it's packed.
Killer Bangs and Bud incite mass outbreaks of vigorous head-nodding, if not rioting, as Tweeddale's gutsy vocals flit between soaring and petulant.
It never quite breaks out of the Breeders/Hole/Best Coast mould of the band's influences: the songs are too linear, and at the lyrics - to put it lightly - could do with a little more substance.
But Honeyblood's success is proof positive that Glasgow's knack of producing some of the best indie music around isn't in danger of disappearing.
They kick off a US tour tonight in New York: don't be surprised if they're not back anytime soon.