1,094 THE SKIDS, Theatre Of Hate, London Shepherd’s Bush Empire, Saturday 30th June 2018

And now, back to our usual scheduled programme…!

 

Following last weekend’s Taylor Swift pop extravaganza at Wembley with Kasey, today’s mid-point of 5 weekend gigs on the bounce (and 2^nd of 3 in a row “oop the Smoke”) saw a semblance of normality restored, with a punk rock boys night out! Said night out being hosted once again by The Skids, continuing their recent reunion renaissance with a first London gig since the release of their first album in 37 years, the fire-breathing, anger-fuelled and reactionary “Burning Cities”, and the boys in question being myself and Logan! Having loved the full-on Skids “meet and greet” experience in Oxford last June (gig 1,040), Logan was up for seeing these vintage anthemic punks (and his dad’s real first musical loves) again, so a Saturday gig at the favourable Empire (the right side of London for us!) afforded us the chance for Logan’s first London gig, the first of many no doubt…!

The girls were in Bristol seeing “Flashdance”, so Logan and I set off at 4, listening to Argentina’s extraordinary World Cup exit on the journey. We parked in The Bush at 6.15, waiting by the car for 15 minutes until we were legal (! Again…) before heading around the corner; doors were at 7, so we were one of the first in, securing a barrier spot, house right. The place filled up early doors, a number of early punters seeming to primarily be here for the support! Old stagers Theatre Of Hate (for t’was they), joined us at 7.45, the pairing of Kirk Brandon and faithful wingman, bassist Stan Stammers, leading the charge into “Original Sin”, Brandon’s familiar and unique operatic tones and the saxophone blare competing for attention throughout. “We’re your fun-loving Theatre Of Hate!” quipped the vulgar-shirted Brandon, in relaxed and effusive mood tonight, making light of playing the wrong song early doors with, “OK, you sometimes get things fucking wrong!” This was a solid set of their dark, dramatic and occasionally politically-tinged dense post-punk rock, with occasional swipes at Trump (“that guy with the small hands”) and, in the still-strident “Propaganda”, tonight’s first full-on mosh-fest. At a full hour, their set wore on me a little, but as ever, the pointed and still-relevant cowboy gallop of “Do You Believe In The Westworld?” was splendid and ended the set well, at which point Stammers handed Logan a pick. Nice!

A chat with a fellow punter, a veteran fan who’d seen The Skids a bunch of times first time round, passed the time until The Skids took the stage at an early 9.10 to the chiming intro of “This Is Our World”, delivering a pulsating rendition of the new album’s opening track. The metallic staccato riff opening to “Charade” followed, Jobson’s voice a little down in the mix and sounding (if I’m being harsh) slightly ragged, maybe bearing the weight of their current hectic touring schedule somewhat, but the frontman was as usual nothing less than mesmeric, whirling away in his trademarked dervish dance and with a constantly beaming grin on his face the width of the Forth Bridge. In good fooling too; “being in our band is “Spinal Tap” every day – so fucking funny! [Backstage, it’s all] cups of tea and Kit-Kats, apart from Bill – he’s on the Tunnocks Teacakes!” was an early comment, then, after a fist-pumping “Melancholy Soldiers” he admitted, “you start full of euphoria and effusiveness and just go for it – then you look at the set-list and think, shit, there’s 42 numbers to go!”

“Working For The Yankee Dollar” was an early set highlight, and the dramatic slashing riffery of “The Saints Are Coming” saw an early mosh develop, as I formed a human shield around my little man. The new numbers stacked up well once more, “Desert Dust” again heart-rending and bleak, and “Into The Void” (reflecting “the fragile scary world of today”) galloping and ominous. After a reverentially received shout out for Stuart Adamson, “Hurry On Boys” was again an epic, stately singalong (this one never ceases to amaze me “live”, always a step up from the recorded version), then a singalong “Circus Games”, which got my little man really animated, immediately segued into an unannounced “Albert Tatlock”, which oddly ended with some Devo “Satisfaction” drumbeats from Mike Baillie. As ever, “Into The Valley” was a raucous, anthemic and brilliant punctuation on another superb Skids set – as I mentioned, slightly road worn but never less than enthusiastic.

A galloping “Olympian” (featuring some frantic fretwork from the splendid Bruce Watson) rounded off the encores, at which point Bill (onstage in front of us) handed Logan his list, this being followed by one of Jamie’s picks as the guitarist crossed the stage in front of us. Nice! A brief chat and signature from Mike Baillie afterwards was the icing on the cake for my “wee man”, who excitedly burbled all the way home for a 12.30 arrival. Another successful London gig with one of my offspring then – this one much more to my tastes!

1,027 STIFF LITTLE FINGERS, Theatre Of Hate, Bristol O2 Academy, Sunday 12th March 2017

Round up the Big Man, bolt on the old punk rock t-shirt, get ready for the usual “Lauda”-esque sprint down the M4… yup, it’s time for the annual “Mad March To Bristol” to see Stiff Little Fingers!

This time it was for a more auspicious occasion – not only the 12^th time in 13 years that we’d made this March pilgrimage (and my 17th time overall of catching them – thereby putting them once again into a clear 2^nd place in my “Most Times Seen” list, behind the mighty Seafood), but also this tour celebrated the venerable original politico-punk agitators’ 40^th Anniversary! Yup, SLF are 40 years young, and still, for me, thanks to recent worrying UK and global political shifts to the right, as relevant as ever. Trump, Brexit, terrorism… one would wonder what Fingers mainman Jake Burns, not often short of an opinion or two, might have to say about all that malarkey…

I was in the driving seat this year, so I picked up Ady, joining us this time around, then the Big Man, and we hared it down the M4, our only delay being to get into Trenchard car park due to an event at The Colston Hall as well! Parked on the roof then (!), but made it in time to join a very busy early doors crowd for the support. Said support, Kirk Brandon’s Theatre Of Hate, were on at 7.45 as we arrived, the strains of “Original Sin” accompanying our entrance. To be honest, I’d always preferred Brandon’s subsequent, more 80’s rockist-orientated Spear Of Destiny, to his angrier, punkier and heavy drum/ wailing saxophone dominated ToH material, so some of this set was a bit heavy going for me. However, the pacy, urgent “Propaganda”, a growling “Legion” and the inevitable galloping “Westworld” ended the set strongly, and Brandon’s soaring, almost operatically sinister voice was as usual an impressive feature throughout.

I’d made my way to the loo at the end of ToH’s set, but found it difficult to get back – this one was utterly heaving tonight! I’d noted that recent SLF March Bristol gigs had seen falling attendances, but it seemed every old punker in the South West had crawled out of the woodwork for the 40^th Anniversary tour! Made it back in time, nevertheless, for the “Go For It” entrance music (the best, most all-inclusive buoyant, mood-setting intro music in rock, bar NONE!), and Jake and the boys took the stage with the usual, “Bristol! Y’alright?” shout-out, then, unexpectedly, into the rarely-played oldie “Breakout” and an equally infrequent but deliciously snarling “Straw Dogs”! Yipe, we might be in for some surprises tonight!

Such was the case, as Jake remarked, “Fuck me, 40 years… you get less time for murder!”, then announced that to mark the 40^th, there’d be a few surprises amongst the usual faves. So we had the sinuous reggae-based “Safe As Houses” (one of Jake’s faves’ apparently) and the waltz-like intro to “Roaring Boys” which then took flight into a rambunctious punk-fest, amongst the usual likes of the empowering “Nobody’s Hero” and the excellent “Roots Radicals Rockers and Reggae”, a breathless mid-set highlight.

And what did Jake have to say about the current political turmoil? Oddly, nothing… he continued to eschew the social and political commentary as per recent tours, saving the more severe invective for the likes of church hypocrisy and breaches of child trust (“Guilty As Sin”) and ignorant IRA support (“Each Dollar A Bullet”). All well and good, but I’d have liked to hear the Chicago-domiciled Burns’ take on the current idiot incumbent of The White House… Never mind, the music did the talking, and very eloquently; a final salvo of a savage “Wasted Life”, an epic “Tin Soldiers” and the raw, ragged “Suspect Device” ended the set superbly. Then after a libidinous, militaristic drumbeat-led first encore “Johnny Was”, Jake thanked us all for 40 years of support and for, “giving us a career,” before rounding off the night with another rare and highlight of the night “Gotta Getaway” and the inevitable if slightly messy “Alternative Ulster”. A great evening’s vintage punk rock again, and this time an SLF performance worthy of this major anniversary.

A footnote to tonight was that, midway through the gig, a guy in front of me was hauled out by the paramedics worryingly clutching his chest; however, before I grabbed a list and we hit the road for a clear run home, I bumped into his mate who confirmed he was OK, recovering at home. That’s a relief!