The neon vamp fronting Glasgow’s rising darkwave thrillmasters, Mercy Girl, has a wee laugh re: her perch in rock’s death zone. “It’s something I’ve thought about since turning 27,” says Daisy Miles, being as she is the age at which Amy Winehouse, Kurt Cobain, Jimi Hendrix and other glorious flame-outs entered music’s Valhalla. “I’m trying to make sure I don’t get ahead of myself and go too crazy.” But when you’re in a band of mates that’s taking hold and taking off, enthralling crowds and booking nights ever further afield (strap in, Warsaw and Berlin), the ride is the ride. “It’s wild,” says Daisy. “I can’t actually explain how surreal it is.” To take point for Mercy Girl’s erotically charged thrum and voom, Ms. Miles dons armor. “Chain mail’s awesome,” says Daisy, who finds great satisfaction in the pre-show transformation ritual of stepping out of the daylight world and into an iron-ring brassiere, black sky-high boots, and a painted mask. “I love it.…