Up until last summer and the glory that was SP20 (I still chuckle in pitying glee at those who didn’t manage to scrap together the money to be a part of those festivities) I didn’t have a fucking clue who The Vaselines were.  I’d hear rumors of some band that Kurt Cobain was all short-pantsed for, but I’d never actually done any research in to this duo of Scots.

My boss at Light In The Attic, the mop-headed super being known only as Sullivan, forced me in to viewing their show and was instantly won over.  It’s fuzzy and it’s twee and it’s cute and it’s rugged and The Vaselines are just this sort of loveable bundle of goodness.  Live they were like two best friends, tweaking each other and playing off each other’s rustiness in the most endearing way.  This comes through in spades on “Son of a Gun”, a nice poppy little number, with a chorus more infectious than monkey-bite Ebola.  My eyes are actually bleeding right now.

Sub Pop is releasing a definitive version of Enter The Vaselines on May 5th.  Wallets out children, you’ve got money to spend.

The Vaselines - Son of a Gun