Frances McKee seems a little unsure as to what night of the week it is. She had thought she was here “for the dancing.” “Strictly Vaselines,” suggests Eugene Kelly. Should their career in music suddenly end – which on tonight’s evidence alone would seem highly unlikely – a future surely awaits them as a double act specialising in stand-up comedy. The Glasgow Empire beckons. I am pretty sure they will receive a much better reception there than did Mike and Bernie Winters many, many years ago. Ask an elderly relative if you are a little unsure.
Frances later tells us that this is the last night of the tour. She adds that this is also the most drunk she has been since 1987. Whilst she was drinking some disgusting looking liquid from a wine glass, I think she was probably having us on because, to use the Glaswegian vernacular, “she wusnae fu’” and The Vaselines were, if I’m not confusing my idioms, as tight as a drum. They rattle through a couple of dozen songs and, yes, they do play the three tunes that Nirvana covered way back in the day. ‘Molly’s Lips’ arrives first. ‘Jesus Wants Me for a Sunbeam’ rocks up four songs later. And ‘Son of a Gun’ is their fourth and final encore of the night.
They are the band who put the“fuck” in York, Frances helpfully advises. I don’t think even Eugene knew what she was on about. But who are we to disagree? After all, Glaswegians and the use of industrial language are often seen as being synonymous, though I would argue that the usage thereof is generally just a figure of speech.
Oh, and I took a few photos…
And there are a few more HERE from the night
