The
last time I saw The Skids, ironically at this very venue 2 ½ years ago (gig
1,124), it felt as if the relentless touring schedule that this veteran
Scottish anthemic original punk band had adopted since their 40th
Anniversary reunion in 2017 was winding down, that a less hectic approach would
be adopted going forward, that being exemplified by a splendid acoustic set from
lead vocalist Richard Jobson and the Watson boys later that year (September
2019, gig 1,151). Then of course Covid hit, and the world was put on pause,
providing an unwelcome yet natural break which actually seemed to serve as a
rest and reset for The Skids! Not much of a surprise then, that as soon as the
venues opened after a near 18-month absence, The Skids announced an Autumn
full-on electric band tour. Even less of a surprise was that me and my gig
buddy Logan were up for seeing them again!
Gloucester
on a Saturday night was the best choice, so we headed off about 7ish, hitting
the venue and opting to grab a drink in the ornate wood-panelled bar over
catching support Borrowed Time, whom I’ve seen enough to realise they’re not my
cup of homogenous UK82 street punk snakebite. Ran into my Gloucester friend
Simon (who’s not only a BT fan but a mate of the vocalist!) and his charming
wife Sarah after their set for a long-overdue catch-up, before we took a wander
into the half-full old school hall venue, Logan still managing to find a bit of
barrier, pretty much front and centre! Whiled away the interval singing along
to the 70’s punk PA soundtrack – as I mentioned to a fellow punter, this is our
church, and these are our hymns!
The
bubbling synth intro of “Peaceful Times” as ever heralded The Skids onstage,
the bomber-jacketed Jobbo last on, yet fully ready to conduct the choir. The
regimental drums and riffery of usual opener “Animation” led us in, Bill
Simpson’s bass initially sounding a little off, but by the titanic, hard and
heavy second number, the brilliant “Of One Skin” it was all sorted.
Jobbo
was in playful, voluble mood tonight, clearly glad to be back in his natural
habitat, i.e. in front of an attentive and enthusiastic audience, and sounded
off extensively between songs on subjects such as Bill’s alleged porn career
(!), calling out hecklers (at one point offering the whole crowd outside with
a, “you think you’re tough enough Gloucester?”), Rod Stewart’s cock (!!),
recent “Burning Cities” CD producer – and Killing Joke legend – Youth’s
marijuana habits (!!!), and his appearance in Paula Yates’ tacky 90’s book
“Rock Stars In Their Underpants” (“a shameful story!”). This, of course, was on
top of his fist-pumping, rabble rousing frontman performance, usual shadow
boxing “dancing” and stentorian, gut busting vocals, particularly to the fore
on a quite brilliant “The Saints Are Coming”.
The
band sounded tight and tough too; clearly the break has done them good, with
the Watson father and son guitar duo providing interweaving, snaking riffery of
which Stuart Adamson himself would be proud, Bill Simpson pounding out a bass
foundation as solid and rock-steady as the springy venue floor wasn’t (!), and
– with due deference to usual drummer Mike Baillie – guest drummer, Big
Country’s Mark Brzezicki, giving his usual virtuoso masterclass in hard-hitting
rock drumming. The staccato opening to “Charade” ceded to a huge choral hook, the
excellent “Kings Of The New World Order” showed there’s songwriting life in
these old dogs yet, and after a more reflective yet still rousing singalong
mid-set double of “Hurry On Boys” and “A Woman In Winter”, it all went a bit
old school punk rock, the Boris-baiting terrace chant “Albert Tatlock” segueing
into truncated versions of The Sex Pistols’ “Pretty Vacant” and Buzzcocks’
“What Do I Get”, before the inevitable “Into The Valley” and a galloping
“Olympian” closed the set out.
The
punk rock wasn’t finished, though, with a rambunctious run-through of The
Clash’s “Complete Control” (a stand-out track on their recent “Hymns From A
Haunted Ballroom” covers CD) the encore punctuation point on a 1 hour 20 set,
proving there’s still life in these old Scottish terriers yet, particularly
after the Covid break. A quick catch-up with Simon and Sarah before a false
start home due to a road closure still got us back in time to grab a kebab and
watch some Red Sox playoff baseball before hitting the hay. A good day, a great
boys night out with Logan, and a triumphant and welcome return from The Skids!
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