Qulture Magazine

Words: Kenny Ross

TRNSMT rolls back into Glasgow Green on 19th – 21st June 2026, with all the dependable charm of a band that’s been headlining festivals since flip phones were cutting edge — familiar, loud, and absolutely determined to give you a good time whether you like it or not. By now, it knows its lane: big voices, bigger choruses, and just enough alternative credibility to stop anyone calling it Radio 1 in a field… even if it occasionally nicks its sunglasses and refuses to give them back.

Here we fkn go – Friday opens like TRNSMT always does — reassuring, steady, and quietly setting you up for three days of questionable decisions. Richard Ashcroft takes top billing, gliding in with that permanently windswept, arms-outstretched presence, ready to turn Glasgow Green into one massive sing-along. There’s no reinvention here — just era-defining anthems delivered with the confidence of someone who knows exactly how loud you’re about to be. Before him, Wolf Alice provides one of the weekend’s few genuine flashes of alternative muscle, drifting from delicate atmospherics into something with actual force behind it — a rare moment where TRNSMT briefly flirts with the idea of danger before remembering what it is.

Dylan John Thomas gets the home crowd exactly where he wants them — big choruses, bigger reactions — while Nile Rodgers & CHIC arrive as a fully functioning joy factory, rattling off hit after hit until even the most stubborn indie (vidual?) is reluctantly dancing. Further down, the cracks start to show in the best possible way. The Beta Band feel like a clever curveball — cult heroes for those in the know, mild confusion for everyone else. NewDad soundtrack that slightly hazy early-day feeling, Luvcat leans into off-centre pop oddness, and Songer cuts across the grain entirely with sharp UK rap that splits the field straight down the middle. The Cliffords keeps things ticking over nicely — enjoyable, fleeting, and gone before you’ve even checked the time. It’s a gentle build; Friday never quite lets itself get lost, but you can feel it warming up.

By Saturday, the hangovers are real, the pints are flowing properly, and the festival finally finds its rhythm. Kasabian headline with all the subtlety of a firework going off in your face — big riffs, bigger swagger, and a crowd more than willing to meet them at that level. Around them, TRNSMT does its usual balancing act. The Snuts deliver homegrown indie with the kind of reception most bands would sell a limb for, while The Last Dinner Party add theatrical flair without ever tipping too far into the weird.
The Fratellis arrive like time has simply stopped for them somewhere around 2006 — no evolution, no regrets, just absolute commitment to the hits. It shouldn’t work as well as it does, but when an entire field is bouncing to songs like Chelsea Dagger, nobody’s going to bat an eyelid. English Teacher, bring a bit of wiry, off-kilter intelligence, taking a few songs to properly click, while Big Special feel like they’ve wandered in from a completely different, sweatier festival — grittier, more confrontational, and refreshingly uninterested in playing nice. Loyle Carner offers a moment of reflection amid the noise, Rose Gray smooths things out with polished pop, and Sonny Fodera turns part of Glasgow Green into a makeshift dancefloor, reminding everyone that, actually, not everything needs a guitar (even if you pretend otherwise for credibility… you know who you are).

And then Sunday arrives (with the fear..) — No doubt slightly fragile, slightly emotional, and powered almost entirely by stubbornness, and left over booze in your system. It’s the comedown day, whether you like it or not. Lewis Capaldi takes the closing slot in full hometown hero mode, effortlessly switching between heartbreak and comedy while tens of thousands hang onto his every word. Earlier in the day, we will have CMAT, who will try to steal the day with sheer personality alone (I have heard a lot of hype over them… we will see!) — big voice, big presence, and just enough chaos to keep everyone awake (or have an ice cold PEPSI, if you are still struggling… see what I did there #AD #TRNSMTSponsors). Red Rum Club bring a warm, brass-soaked glow that feels tailor-made for late afternoon sunshine (here is hoping), while Overpass and Westside Cowboy fill that “future big thing” slot — all polished ambition and choruses you’ll pretend you always knew when they turn up on the radio a month or so later.

Across the weekend, it’s the lower end of the line up where things quietly get more interesting — if you’re willing to go looking. That’s where TRNSMT tucks away anything resembling grit. The BBC Introducing stage hosts the scrappier and unique elements: SOAPBOX injecting actual punk energy – my kind of band, Mercy Girl leaning into darker tunes, Radio Free Alice and Sister Madds dragging in a bit of garage-band noise (Ahhhh..I remember those days..) and of course the BBC Introducing Scottish Act of The Year Winner, Alice Faye bringing eclectic vibes on Friday like you’ve just raided your Granny’s wardrobe, in the best way possible. It’s not centre stage, and it’s not pushed in your face — but it’s there, tucked behind all the polished acts…this is where you would find me.

…And that’s really the trade-off. TRNSMT doesn’t do chaos. It doesn’t do death metal, it doesn’t do “let me hold onto the barrier and hope for the best.” The heavier side of things is still very much treated like a distant relative — acknowledged, respected, but kept firmly in another room. The closest you get is bands like Wolf Alice or Big Special hinting at something rougher around the edges before the next clean sing-along chorus rolls in and restores business as usual at TRNSMT!

What it does do, better than most, is the atmosphere. No mud, no camping (thank f**k), no survival instincts required — just three days in the city, bouncing between stages & bars, catching songs you’ve known for years and discovering the occasional act you didn’t expect to enjoy. It’s polished, it’s predictable, and it’s incredibly effective at what it sets out to be. TRNSMT 2026 isn’t here to challenge you or change your life. Somewhere else, there’s a sweaty room in the West End with a band tearing the walls down while this is all happening, but at Glasgow Green, you’ve got tens of thousands of people shouting the same chorus at the same time — and still meaning every word of it. – Again, personally, not all of it is my cup of tea -but you do you!

And if you wander far enough from the main stage, miss your round at the bar, and take a chance on a smaller name, you might just find a bit of that chaos after all. You just need to work for it — which feels very un-TRNSMT-y behaviour. – yes I created a new word again…just me? Tickets are selling fast for this, so grab them if this seems like your “Aura” (see I am still down with the kids lingo) Tickets can be found Here.

Peace Out.