A recent BBC documentary series set on Sauchiehall Street portrayed Glasgow's busiest thoroughfare as a gauntlet of smashed glass and human misery, with scant acknowledgment that it's also one of Britain's most musically vibrant areas, densely packed with small venues of the sort that seem to be closing down everywhere else. Naturally, then, it's a good fit for an event like Stag & Dagger, which this year boasted 50 acts across its eight stages, and a lineup which – while short on household names – had its fair share of must-sees.

Chief among them were Philadelphia quartet The Districts, whose frontman Rob Grote is in possession of one of those rasping, soulful barks we'd ordinarily describe as "whisky-soaked", except he's not legally old enough to drink the stuff. The Hold Steady's Craig Finn might have 20-odd years on him, but they pitch from the same ballpark of impassioned, romantic American rock'n'roll, and as you watch Finn proselytise his way through Sequestered in Memphis, you can't help but think the two bands would make a terrific double bill.

At the ABC, the festival's largest venue, Albert Hammond Jr's closing set feels a little anticlimactic, particularly if – like us – you'd just come from seeing Royal Blood, the Brightonian power-duo whose revved-engine guitars both deafen and delight .

But Stag & Dagger isn't really about the headliners; indeed, some of the most oversubscribed shows are by fledgling local acts further down the bill. Honeyblood, a female grunge-pop duo who have found themselves much-fêted of late, pack out not one but two performances, while Casual Sex  bring a touch of debonair dissent to proceedings, with frontman Sam Smith (no, not that one) stopping the show to reapply his lipstick and dedicate the militant post-punk frogmarch of The Bastard Beat to David Cameron and his cronies. The reflexive Glaswegian loathing of the Tories, it seems, is one stereotype they're happy to embrace.