IT'S the deadpan rural earnestness that makes The Nualas so funny. They perform songs about satanic cows and buying chips with artificial limbs, as if these were everyday events for them.

Throw in sharp pictures of the world the rest of us live in the nightmare flat mate, or an unusual holiday romance - plus a Buck's Fizz on stage costume change, and happiness was guaranteed. Lyrically, they show sparkling comic agility (as when they stretched the syrupy soul cliche until it snapped), and if the by play between the Nualas was only worth a smile, the songs themselves are priceless.