the vaselines slather up tha' sexin' at lincoln hall

I may not have known shit about The Vaselines other than what Nirvana taught me up until a few weeks ago—but I got one helluva semi-private lesson at Chicago’s Lincoln Hall this past Thursday night. The Scottish duo Eugene Kelly and Frances McKee came off as a blink-and-miss-it blip in the mid-to-late 80’s alternative rock scene, forming in ’86 and releasing their debut record Dum-Dum in ’89—only to break up shortly after its release. If the garagey lo-fi outfit hadn’t found a fan in a certain Seattle grunge ringleader, it’s hard to say if The Vaselines would have the reputation they have for themselves today. Thanks to Mr. Cobain, (who even named his daughter after Ms. McKee), several of us are more familiar with the work of The Vaselines than we may even realize after covering tracks such as “Molly’s Lips,” “Son of a Gun,” and “Jesus Wants Me for a Sunbeam” on Insecticide and MTV Unplugged, respectively.


Twenty some odd years later, for whatever reason, Kelly and McKee decided to give their simple, two-bit guitar cult status another go with a reunion tour in ’09 and a sophomore LP release, Sex With an X on Sub-Pop Records this year. Their performance last year at the Metro had stirred up a lot of hype, and after hearing several friends and critics’ raves, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to check them out personally at the always incredible Lincoln Hall.

Unfortunately, opening act Dum Dum Girls had to cancel the most recent lag of their tour for undisclosed reasons; while McKee still made light of the situation, claiming it was Kelly and the trio of male back-up musicians’ overtly sexual come-ons that frightened them away. I can’t remember another show that came remotely close to cracking me up as consistently as McKee and Kelly’s humorous, sexual charged stage banter. Poor Kelly served as the butt of McKee’s constant cracking; from his lack of groupies, (“Just put a paper bag on Eugene’s head, ladies—any takers?”); his fashion sense, (“What is up with your t-shirt?” McKee jabbed, “It’s my comfort shirt, c’mon,” Kelly pleaded); to his desperate, (yet somehow endearing), come-ons to female members of the crowd (“Who smells so good? Is it you, pink scarf girl?” to which McKee retorted, “How can you smell that far? Are your senses heightened because you lost all your hair? Or is it your bad teething?”). McKee also made stabs at herself, coming across like an adorable, yet sadly, sex-starved rock heroine; joking about ‘relieving’ the male band members and nightly gangbangs—only to turn around and assure the crowd they were more of the ‘tea and scrabble sort.’ The comedic routine nearly exceeded the performance itself—but not quite.

The sound in Lincoln Hall was crisp and clear, as always. Red and gold hues illuminated the stage with blue strobes flickering the background. The crowd, whilst sparse and maybe 40-50% at capacity, made up for the lack of bodies with their enthusiasm. Those in attendance weren’t your typical arms crossed hipster dudes, but hardcore, vinyl collecting, fist pumping, older white men without rhythm--who you knew that if they didn’t now, had worked in a record store at some point in their life. Dancing, swaying, and lots of applause echoed the crowd’s enthusiasm for the stellar showmanship that took hold of Lincoln Hall. If you haven’t had a chance to catch The Vaselines live yet, or visit their classic release Dum-Dum, do yourself some much needed research and check ‘em out now. Better later than never.

Set List:
1. Oliver Twisted
2. Monster Pussy
3. I Hate the 80’s
4. The Day I was a Horse
5. Sex With an X
6. Jesus Wants Me for a Sunbeam
7. The Devil Inside Me
8. Molly’s Lips
9. Slushy
10. Poison Pen
11. Bitch
12. Such a Fool
13. No Hope
14. Rory Rides Me Raw
15. Ruined
16. Son of a Gun
17. Let’s Get Ugly
18. Mouth to Mouth
19. Dying for It
20. (Enc 1) Sex Sux
21. (Enc 2) You Think You’re A Man
22. (Enc 3) Dum-Dum