It is fitting that the meeting point for DETOUR’S third Wee Jaunt should be the Scottish Parliament. Standing outside the home of our nation’s law makers are two young men, Ally McCrae and David Weaver, who create their own rules when it comes to live music, redefining the conventional roles of not just performers but audience members and venues.

It takes a very special kind of promoter to ‘sell out’ (or whatever the correct phrase is for shifting all 50 free places) an event in less than an hour without the merest hint of a line-up, but it’s a luxury Detour have earned through their fearless reputation for guerrilla gig hosting.

At the heart of Detour’s success are their Wee Jaunts. The first two, both in Glasgow last year, featured bands playing in toilets, an open-top bus tour, choir singing and zorbing. Their third jaunt, in Edinburgh on June 4, was arguably the most ambitious yet.

Weaver and McCrae, whose feats with Detour helped persuade Radio 1 to make him their youngest DJ at the age of 23, begin by leading the assembled 50-strong throng through a warm-up routine of star jumps, lunges and toe-touching, while armed police guarding the entrance of Holyrood keep a wary eye on this unscheduled Saturday afternoon outdoor fitness class.

Every part of the five-hour extravaganza is a closely-guarded secret. The first stop is the car park at the foot of Arthur’s Seat, where a Red Bull-liveried van is kitted out with a sound system and local hip hop scenesters Madhat McGore and UVBeatz.

After 10 minutes of silence caused by the generator’s batteries going flat and the almost instantaneous arrival of jeep-driving park rangers, it looks like being a disastrous start for the Detour boys and the small battalion of camera operators documenting their every move.

McCrae, though, manages to sweet-talk the rangers into leaving as the speakers boom into life, and before you know it the hills are alive with the sound of McGrory’s greasy rhymes and priceless cries of “Big up Arthur’s Seat”.

We’re then led to the Scottish Poetry Library (via an ice-cream van manned by Weaver – 50p mixture… yummy!) where hush is demanded as McCrae reads Robert Frost’s poignant poem The Road Not Taken. Behind him, a large white sheet is unfurled to reveal our next act – a gentle acoustic performer surely? Not a chance. Instead, hardcore band Shields Up strike up a barrage of demented guitar riffs and their trio of vocalists take it in turns to scream lyrics such as “Yaaaah-warraaaaa-daiiiiiii-faaaaaarrrgh-yaaaaaa!”. Genius.

To the Bongo Club, and funk-rap band Stanley Odd are waiting to play in a small space next to the upstairs bar – well, it was never going to be on the actual stage. Main vocalist Solareye steals the show with his brilliantly sharp wordplay (“An addict needs a hit and so does a record company, so tell me who is the bigger junkie?”) and they earn a deservedly rapturous response.

The next stop is the back of the Pleasance Courtyard, where Luke Joyce aka I Build Collapsible Mountains is sat on top of a concrete shed playing beautiful, sad songs on his acoustic guitar including the gloriously melodic Rails.

TeKlo is now set up in the main Pleasance Courtyard and his penchant for electro/dubstep only confirms that there’s no more tedious a spectacle than watching someone fanny about on their laptop in the name of live music.

McCrae adopts the role of Pied Piper once again to lead his followers to the Mosque Kitchen, where the Jaunters get an opportunity to fill their bellies with some delicious, inexpensive curries and sit across rows of tarpaulin-covered tables to leave the scene resembling an indie dinner school.

As the paper plates are licked clean, Over The Wall make an appearance, transforming their prog-pop epics into acoustic mini-anthems with ease, albeit with the amusing distractions of low-flying pigeons and trolley-pushing Muslims.

With the audience number having somehow doubled in size, the courtyard which houses The List magazine’s base is the setting for Conquering Animal Sound, a Björk-meets-Forrest Gump oddity whose 15-minute set doesn’t go down well with one finger-pointing woman in a neighbouring flat.

We’re then chaperoned to the other side of High Street, and the Scottish Storytelling Centre, where radio presenter Vic Galloway is sat alone on the stage of the venue’s theatre. He begins to captivate the audience with the tale of his first gig, The Damned at Edinburgh’s Playhouse in 1985, which he attended with his best friend James Yorkston when they were both 12. Galloway’s mesmeric monologue is coloured with intricately-described memories and it’s clear that this stirring experience helped cultivate his unrivalled enthusiasm for music and his passion for discovery.

Galloway then leads the masses through to the venue’s back garden where Withered Hand inevitably makes everyone swoon with his heartfelt and humorous lyrics that put him in a class of his own.

The last stop of the evening finds Lady North halfway down Fleshmarket Close (the staired alley that separates Cockburn Street and Waverley Station) in a tiny alcove usually frequented by homeless people. With curious passers-by and tourists now swelling the audience numbers still further, the sight and sound of Lady North’s instrumental math-rock racket in full flow in such a bizarre location is actually quite something to behold.

If Detour keep putting on events this extraordinary, the biggest challenge they face will be keeping their Wee Jaunt wee. For music fans of all genres, there simply isn’t a more enjoyable experience to be had.

I Build Collapsible Mountains – Rails

Stanley Odd – SONARcotics

All photos © The Pop Cop

Further reading – Detour: the live wire daredevils