Following
a back pain-induced pause, I can finally get gigging again! And a couple of
additional auspicious occasions tonight; firstly, another landmark gig number,
this of course being the “roadie” number (1-2, 1-2, geddit? No? Oh well…), and
secondly, the return to my “Spring Dance Card” of the traditional “Mad March to
Bristol” to see original 70’s political punks Stiff Little Fingers! Their last
“Mad March” date, just before the initial 2020 Covid lockdown, had clashed with
my Nada Surf Electric Ballroom gig (gig. 1,180), and obviously 2021 didn’t
happen, so for me this was 2 years away from this traditional date. So I was
glad to make this “MMTB” no. 15 out of 18 years in the noughties thus far, and
my 20th time overall for SLF. And, given the current horrendous
world events, a much-needed night out. One wonders what Fingers frontman Jake
Burns will have to say about the state of the world…
A merch stand visit then back in for main support The Professionals. Formed in the late 70’s by former Sex Pistols guitar/ drum duo Steve Jones and Paul Cook, I confess they passed me by back then, as I delved more into the post-punk slew of bands, but tonight they played some tough, tight and strong-armed street punk with occasionally surprisingly good vocal harmonies and choral hooks, propelled by the pounding drums of sole remaining Pistol Cook. “Silly Thing” was an inevitable mid-set highlight, “Kick Down The Doors” shared a similarly fine descending guitar riff, and if some of the set veered too much into worthy but samey pub rock territory, they finished strongly with “a cover of a cover” of the Monkees’ via Pistols’ “Stepping Stone”. Plus, Paul Cook is Punk Rock Royalty of the highest order, so there!
We
kept our usual floor spot, house left, as the DJ saw fit to regale us with
assorted 70’s TV theme tunes! Finally, the Finest Entrance Music In Rock, the
rousing instrumental “Go For It”, kicked in, the usual “diddly-do!” mass singalong
resonating around the venue as SLF took the stage, vocalist Jake Burns now
strikingly bald (a legacy of getting too tired to wrestle with his ongoing
alopecia problem, apparently!) and, between his tiny guitarist Ian McCallum and
preying mantis bassist Ali McMordie, looking more monolithic than usual! “Let’s
try that again,” Burns wryly muttered before ripping into an incendiary
“Suspect Device”, followed in breathless short order by “At The Edge” and “Fly
The Flag”, an astounding opening triple-salvo, all played with vim and righteous
venom. They can’t keep this up, surely?
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