Another of my teenhood faves to follow The Psychedelic Furs, last time out… this time in the shape of original 70’s art school sex-punk turned ubiquitous 80’s crossover pop megastar turned new millennial Comeback King Adam Ant! And again, like last time out with the Great Man (gig 1,241, bumped from 2021 to 2022), this was a rescheduled gig… Logan and I had originally booked for a “Boys Day Out” in London for a Saturday last November, until Adam once again came down with a touch of Covid, but at least we were happy that the rescheduled date still fell on a weekend. And, to top it off, our friend Mitchell Tennant announced a matinee show for his excellent Adam tribute band, Ant Trouble, at the Camden Dublin Castle, as an Amuse Bouché for the main course. So, a double dose of Antmusic? You bet!
Swindon punk queen Debby had hung onto her
ticket from 2024 as well, so we picked her up at 11 a.m. for the intended Osterley-then-tube
journey. However, we discovered en route that our Piccadilly branch line
was closed today, forcing a parking rethink on the fly. Tried first at Hammersmith,
only to find a suggested residential area had recently added weekend parking
restrictions, and an NCP we’d used before required over £42 for our intended
length of stay: fuck that for a game of soldiers! Last resort then, to book our
Kentish Town bolt hole, which was free and actually cheaper than expected, so
we drove straight in! I dropped Logan and Debs off at the DC on the way, dumped
the motor in Kentish, then rejoined them at 2.15 for some chat with other
punters Deb had befriended. Enjoyed 2 fine sets from Mitchell’s splendid Ant
Trouble in the scuzzy old back room, the first a proper punk delve and the second
a broader selection, Ant Trouble skilfully avoiding much of Adam’s own set selections.
Logan and I then took a walk through an inky Camden for some Chinese street
nosh, then queueing up half hour before doors (our intended sneak into the
Roundhouse bar – which had worked for our most recent visits – being unavailable
tonight. Bah!). Eventually we got in and grabbed a spot house left, a few rows
back in this huge old circular and domed engine shed venue.
Deb and her new-found Seattle friends joined us just before opener Toyah at 7.45. Ms. Willcox had ploughed a similar furrow to her headliner and long-time friend (part of the original punk scene, then a more pop-oriented 80’s chart career before branching out into acting), although I’d paid far less attention to her works (apart from early single “Ieya”), finding them a bit cheesy pop, slightly twiddly and even proggy, so I confess I wasn’t expecting much tonight. From the outset, however, she set out to prove me wrong with a dynamic set drawing from the breadth of her canon, delivered with expressive energy, self-effacing humour, chutzpah and an impressively powerful voice which ran through the octaves from rock to almost operatic tones. “Hello, you beautiful people,” she announced as introduction to a hard rocking and soaringly anthemic “Thunder In The Mountains”, “this is from 1980 when none of you were alive – you were all sperms!”
The early, moody piano-led “Neon Womb” saw
her referencing her punk days; the cheesy yet fun “It’s A Mystery” saw her
quip, “only a singer with a lisp could sing this!”; and the epic, widescreen
and tempo-changing (if a little lyrically pompous) “Ieya” was actually tremendous,
topped with an impressive and lengthily held final note. Throughout it all,
Toyah looked like she was having a ball up there, face-cracking smiles and
effusive thanks after each number, and commenting before the sheet synth
opening and tumbling Eurovision drumbeat of stupidly catchy closer “I Wanna Be
Free”, “you’ve made an old pension age punk rocker very happy!” Right back at’cha,
girl; a surprisingly fun set from a born performer and entertainer!
And as night follows day, one follows another… the tarps came off the dual drumkits, imposingly placed on a high drum riser at the back of the stage, then the lights smashed to black as the theme from old Western “The Magnificent Seven” welcomed the band of black-clad desperados onstage. The dual drummers immediately fired up the drumbeat deluge of opener “Dog Eat Dog”, then Adam joined us, slim and striking, hussar jacket and tricorn hat firmly in place, to a rapturous reception, delivering a slightly low-key vocal. “Vive Le Rock” followed, more robust and dynamic, before Adam enquired, “I don’t suppose you fancy a bit of Antmusic, do ya?”, before the upbeat singalong to this eponymous track. That’s what we’re here for, pal!
The man looked good, svelte and snake-hipped as ever (particularly given his years – 71 tomorrow!), commanding attention by his mere presence, teasing and enticing the crowd into rapt devotion. Having said that, the onstage movement wasn’t as fluent and kinetic as previous tours, and the trademark strident yelp was deployed more sparingly than usual. Still suffering a bit from the Covid, or simply the years catching up? Whatever, it was still a consummate, if understated performance, ably backed up by a faultless band, drawing equally from all eras of his recorded output. So, I enjoyed the early double of “Cartrouble” and the staccato guitar work on the descending, propulsive “Zerox” as well as the bullish “Carry On” smutty cheek of “Lady” which segued in via the “ooh ooh ooh”’s into a rowdy and rousing if truncated “Fall In”; and whilst the mid-late set, heavy on his solo “pop” hits, dragged a little for me, there was always the zig-zagging Burundi beats of the defining “Kings Of The Wild Frontier” and the turbo-charged build of a breathless set highlight “Beat My Guest” to keep this old punker happy.
The eerie sleazoid oldie double of a deadpan
“Never Trust A Man (With Egg On His Face)” and the growling, sinister “Red Scab”
preceded another diamond in the rough, the oft-overlooked yet haunting and stripped-back
“Killer In The Home” (for me the highlight of that “KOTWF” run-through back in
2016, gig 990). A lengthy encore of the inevitable “Stand And Deliver”, Adam conducting
an ebullient mass singalong, rounded off another great Adam Ant set. List, then
a walk back to the car and thankfully much easier drive home, Deb and I reminiscing
and singing along to some 70’s/80s Brunel Classics on the way, getting us back
for 1 a.m. I have to confess that this kind of felt like one of the last
opportunities to see Adam, his performance suggesting possibly an imminent
retirement from the grind of “live” shows. If so, I’m glad I’ve made the most
of it, tonight being my 11th time of asking since his 2011 revival.
Every time a great time too, so thank you Adam Ant!
