Gig review: The Proclaimers at York Barbican


“Any newlyweds in the house?” Craig Reid asks as twin brother Charlie drums up the intro to Let’s Get Married. A few lone shouts are drowned out by the cheery hollers at the York Barbican.
The Proclaimers need say no more, but if the sharp-barbed wit of pairing their paean immediately with garrulous divorce anthem What Makes You Cry? doesn't hammer the point home, this is a band with an earnestly earthy tongue lodged in their cheeks.
There's little ground the duo haven't covered in their near-four-decade musical existence – 2023 will mark their fortieth anniversary – and it is a testament to their shrewd longevity that they remain remarkably ageless when they amble onto the stage.
Perhaps it is the fact they always stood apart from the crowd; their famed debut on Top of the Pops, amid the rise of hair metal, Stock Aitken Waterman and skyscraper power-ballads, felt brilliantly incongruous, with their thick-rimmed spectacles and thicker-rimmed accents.
There's little differentiation between then and now – they are perhaps a little more careworn and craggy around the edges, but their vitality remains undimmed, as does their marriage of melancholic folk hues with puckish rock and punk-leaning spirit; songcraft that has stood the test of time.
Most artists would kill to have at least one copper-bottomed classic in their arsenal; the fact The Proclaimers can toss out the brilliant ditty Over and Done With two songs with nary a concern in is a testament to the fact they have about half-a-dozen stone-cold cuts in their back pocket, from the Caledonian anthem Cap in Hand, repurposed as a rallying cry for Scottish independence, to the heady rush of Sky Takes the Soul.
It is those songs that naturally garner the biggest reactions – Letter from America, their wistful shuffle of a pop gem, glides in mid-set to a rapturous reception, while the hymnal Sunshine on Leith leaves a gaggle of grown men openly weeping near the aisles.
There's little in the way of engaging patter between tracks; instead, the duo and their four-piece band rattle through songs with a pleasing punctuality for the elder members looking to make it an early night.
They wrap up their main set with the one-two combo of I'm on My Way and I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles), before the clock even strikes ten, and sail into the night on a sea of good cheer. They'll be back, you'd wager.