Kevin Bridges: The Story So Far - Live in Glasgow

I'm at the crossroads

Getting drowned in white lines

A bad moon is rising

But now I'm doing time

But I'll just keep walking

And this devil I will find

Got no home to go to

I can't sleep at night

- Broken and falling

- Falling, I'm broken

- Got whisky on my mind

- Got whisky on my mind

On my mind

- Broken and falling

- Broken and falling

I'm broken

- Got whisky on my mind

- Got whisky on my mind

On my mind

- My train is calling

- My train is calling

- No woman I can find.

- No woman I can find.

Ladies and gentlemen, please

welcome Kevin Bridges.

- Hello.

- Audience:
Hello.

How are we today in Glasgow?

Friday night, it's f***ing payday.

Here we go.

It's good to be here

in the Scottish Exhibition and

Conference Centre, here we are.

The SECC, or as it's known

locally, "that f***ing SECC".

"Three quid for a hotdog

in that f***ing SECC."

"See that queue at the

bar in that f***ing SECC."

Over in these big venues, you know, when

people come out and they see their mates,

and they're on the phone

going, "Where are you?"

"We're in D, we're in

D. Where are you at?"

"I'm in K."

"D, E, F, G, H, l, J... K."

"Stand up. What are you wearing?"

"Er, yellow T-shirt."

"Oh, aye, I can see you. I

can see you. Wanker! Wanker!"

It's nice to be

here. I've seen...

I've seen Lady Gaga perform.

Yeah, I've seen

Lady Gaga in here.

It's easy... It's easy to slag Lady

Gaga, but the guy puts on a good show.

I've seen him up here

singing about his poker face.

No, he's a talented bloke, he is.

So, did you see the entrance, did

you see the intro, Tony Soprano, eh?

I don't even drive, man.

See how smooth that was?

I don't even drive.

It'd kind of ruin

Tony Soprano's image

if he'd just whipped out a

provisional driving license.

You believe this

f***in' cocksucker?

You believe this f***ing guy?

So, it is good to be back. This

is the last night of the tour.

Good to be back in Glasgow.

Good to come back in Glasgow

because you can speak.

You know, when you travel with a

Scottish accent, it's kind of hard.

Nobody understands

anything you're saying, no.

I've done a few TV shows. I'm a

pretty f***ing big deal, you know?

I'm serious news. No,

I've done a few TV shows.

When you've got a Scottish

accent on the telly,

you need to try to enunciate

and use proper English.

But it's hard to find the right balance,

'cause no matter how hard you try

to enunciate and

use proper English,

there's still somebody

from Leamington Spa.

"When we saw you

on the television

"I didn't quite understand

everything you were saying."

"I didn't quite catch it. Some

of it was a bit over my head.

"Your accent is really quite strong.

You've got a really thick Scotch accent.

"Didn't quite catch

everything you said."

Whilst there's somebody in Scotland

saying, "We've seen you on the telly

"talking like a f***ing bender."

"Care to explain yourself?"

And when you travel down south

and you tell people you're from

Glasgow, they get quite excited.

They go, "Glasgow, yeah, it's

really quite rough, isn't it?

"Really violent, yeah."

You kind of get proud, and

you go, "Oh, aye. Oh, aye."

"You know, a lot of tough guys."

"Oh, aye, a lot of

tough men, yeah."

Then they visit the place and

they're a bit disappointed.

We're trying to get away

from the stereotypes.

We've got a new

promotional tourist campaign

called "Glasgow:

Scotland With Style".

Anybody seen the posters?

It's one of these kind of

homogenised posters of people,

supposed to be the

new face of Glasgow.

People with names like Nathan.

You know, every major city advertises

the happy people like Nathan,

and it's this guy who's in the

poster, "Nathan, sales assistant".

"Proud Glaswegian."

I don't think a sales assistant called Nathan

is a fair representation of any major city.

I think major cities should play up

to those stereotypes on the billboards

advertising your city, show them

real people, like wee Mental Davey.

Apprentice joiner.

Father of six.

Davey's there in the billboard with the

six kids all tucked into the one tracksuit.

A Lacoste tracksuit

- only the best for these kids,

they're all dressed up

for their granny's 30th.

You've got six kids, you've got

Keanu, you've got Sigourney...

Destiny. That's a

new one, Destiny.

Imagine naming your daughter after

the nightclub she was conceived in.

"This is Destiny, and this

is my son, The Garage."

That was a nice shock statistic

about teenage pregnancy.

Apparently one in three 15-year-olds in

the UK admit to being sexually active.

That was a shock

tabloid headline.

I don't know where they get

this kind of evidence, no.

I don't know who they ask

to get these statistics.

You know, if some youth

worker approached you

when you were 15 years old,

in front of all your pals,

and asked you if you

were sexually active.

You'd say, "F***ing right, mate."

"Who, Shagger?"

Put me in for five, pal.

If you ever get any sex

education at school...

Remember, word would

spread, when you were 15,

if you went to the health

centre they give you out condoms.

That was good, you went to the

health centre and got your condoms.

None of us were well sexed,

but you got the condoms.

Fill them up with water.

They'd become water balloons.

Using a condom in a water fight,

the thinking man's water fight.

But you'd always have one of your

friends who would take it a bit too far

and introduce a Durex Extra Safe.

A Durex Extra Safe in a water fight,

you'll f***ing put somebody in a coma.

A Durex Ribbed Extra Safe!

You'll need facial

reconstruction.

I'm getting to that

age. I'm 23 years old.

I'm 23. Not a lot of

people believe that I'm 23.

In the west of Scotland, this

is what a young guy looks like

in this day and age. I'm 23.

I look like a darts prodigy,

don't I? Look at that.

I'm 23, so I'm

getting to that stage.

Some of my friends, some of

my cousins are having children.

You'll notice this:

In a family gathering

there's a newborn baby getting passed

around somebody's living room like a joint.

And everybody's

saying their piece.

You know, some people who've just got this

natural rapport when they speak to babies.

They can just go, "Oh,

look at you. Aw. Aw."

And the baby starts mumbling.

"Are you telling me a wee story?"

It's getting closer and closer

to me and I'm thinking, "Sh*t."

"I need to pretend

that I give a f***."

And it gets to me and

I just kind of freeze.

I'm going, "How are

you doing, mate?"

And the baby feels the

tension, starts to cry.

Everybody looks at me as

if I'm in the wrong here.

"Toughen up, you wee prick."

Dogs, as well. I feel uneasy

in the presence of dogs.

Not "dogs" in the

traditional sense.

I mean "dugs", right. You

know, you got a difference.

In Scotland they

call a dog a dug.

We take that "o" and

make it "u". A dog, a dug.

It's a slang term, but it's

also a social implication,

in that you get "dogs"

and you get "dugs".

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