by STUART MORRISON

"Who threw these?", asked Steven Seagal, holding aloft the pair of knickers which had, moments earlier, alighted on his effects pedals. Clearly relieved that the miscreant was female, Seagal launched into Gunfire in a Juke Joint, just as a brawl erupted on the balcony. Welcome to Glasgow, Steven.

It would be fair to say that actors and credible music careers seldom mix. So the idea that the star of movies such as Under Siege and Marked for Death could hack it in a genuine blues band seemed particularly unlikely. Set aside all such preconceptions.

His claim to be steeped in this music appeared to be completely justified, because this was no celebrity embarrassment, this was the genuine article. Seagal was on the road promoting his second album, Mojo Priest, with a superb seven-piece band.

Operating in an area between Stevie Ray Vaughan and Tony Joe White, Seagal had the chops and the voice to carry it all off with considerable authority. Of course, that authority was somewhat enhanced by the sheer size of the man.

After a rousing introduction by backing vocalist Jermaine Paul, Seagal appeared on the tiny stage wielding a Gibson Firebird as if it were a toothpick. His solos, bolstered by the excellent rhythm guitar of Harold Smith and slide playing of Bernard Allison, flowed on songs such as BBQ and Alligator Ass, and the slightly surreal image of this Hollywood action hero playing blues on a ferry in Glasgow was quickly dispelled by the sheer joy on his face as his second sell-out crowd of the day lapped it up.

He finished with Wild Thing, which, in the circumstances, could not have been more apt.