The Sex Pistols @ Manchester Evening News Arena, UK, 17/11/2007

             John Lydon and friends faced relentless criticism when they undertook their first reunion tour in 1996. The music press had a field day and loyal fans didn’t know quite how to feel about this latest outing. Should they be elated at this opportunity for a whole new generation to experience the original snarling punk rockers that exploded from London all those years ago in a tornado of profanity, rebellion and anger? Or should they feel sick at a cheap and embarrassing U- Turn, particularly when considering their previous condemnation of bands such as the Rolling Stones as being “more like a business than a band". For no matter how much sneering, eye rolling, spitting and shrugging  Mr. Rotten does, these glaring contradictions won’t go away. This is made explicit tonight at the Manchester Evening News Arena, UK.

                The collective present in this Arena are perhaps the most embarrassing set of clichés-in-denial ever witnessed in such a musically visionary city. Bondage trousers, mohicans and Malcolm McLaren gear floods the venue like a plague, as does the phlegm, bile and the inexplicable hatred directed towards support artists The Scratch Perverts.

                The Scratch Perverts are of a more- shall we say- electronic ilk than the Sex Pistols, and provide an entertaining, defiant set despite their impressive set being drowned out by musically bigoted morons. One has to admire the bravery of the duo marching across the stage with a hand held camera- filming the inanity- whilst sticking two fingers up for good measure.The hilarity of the crowd's ignorance is of course the undeniable contradiction between the open minded uninhibited experimentalism that was the punk movement and its modern counterparts closing themselves off in a clique of tattoos and tartan, afraid of change or innovation. It matters not, contradiction seems to be the colour that won’t run from this bizarre spectacle.

                The Sex Pistols’ introduction is probably the most moving moment of the night- as the Arena’s P.A. plays Vera Lynn’s “There’ll Always Be An England” and almost every member of the audience is caught up in inspired patriotism- whipped into a singing, chanting frenzy until Lydon marches out to declare that there will, indeed “always be an England!” rife with eccentricity and confrontation before ploughing into the Pistols classic “Pretty Vacant”. Whilst it is comforting to see such a positive rabble rousing start to the show, you do have to question just how many people in the room needed to be told to be patriotic and obeyed in sheep- like fashion. How many of this flock were, prior to this, truly aware that the questioning ethos often present in the punk “movement” is beneficial to those exposed to it, that it encourages a resilience to complacency and provides a sense of patriotic pride when it comes to characterise so much of British music, art and culture? How many of these safety pin enthusiasts were actually utilising this independence and not following a pack mentality when they hurled abuse at a perfectly sufficient support act a few minutes ago? I guess most of them are just here for the spitting and jumping- and they’ll do it to pretty much anything this group endorses.

                The fact is, the crowd would have enjoyed this concert no matter what- and tonight proves this conclusively. If you can enjoy a bunch of fat old men musically masturbating to their own reflection without an ounce of vitality or necessity in their performance then the only explanation is hero worship and stubbornness. This is a sorry state of affairs, and as the band rock out hit after hit they begin to look more and more like Status Quo- particularly when Steve Jones (guitarist) and Glen Matlock (bassist) actually engage in an impersonation of the ‘Quo by rocking back and forth with their guitars, facing drummer Paul Cook in what I can only hope is a misguided attempt at irony.

                If this were any other group, this would have been all right. This performance would have passed, but the slack- jawed inanity of the crowd and the irreconcilable contradictions of such an event outweigh adequate musical performance, some amusing conversation with the crowd, and to be fair, what appears to be heart felt sincerity in places on the part of Mr. Lydon, who to his credit has in the past admitted revelling in his own evolution. Further, the most outrageous and moronic displays of the evening were out of his control and a fault of those in attendance. None of this, however, addresses the contradictions that have characterised tonight and threaten to destroy the original integrity (if ever there was any) of the Sex Pistols. 

THE BELTONES "Cheap Trinkets" (2001) Review

The first time I heard this record redefined my view of music entirely. From the instant I heard those Skrewdriver- style guitars and that defiant yet self- loathing growl of lead vocalist William McFadden I knew that from this moment onwards I wouldn’t settle for cheap lyrics, shoddy timing and half- baked political debates. I wanted real music, tangible emotions conveyed and articulated through a sound akin to the one produce by the revving of a chainsaw. I wanted all of my music to sound something like this.

                The true joy of hearing The Beltones as the holistic noise they produce, is that half of the listener is amused and confused at the bands' overall sound which sounds, in a controversial twist, somewhat like Skrewdriver (vocalist and guitarist William McFadden has made it clear in our correspondence that this is not deliberate and most likely down to the fact that both bands were heavily influenced by The Who and Townsend's guitar style). The other half is impressed that a band has managed to harness such a volatile sound and utilised each component present in the process to produce a menacing racket complemented by timing as tight as a duck’s arse and some of most sincere lyrics ever penned.

                Most lyrics focus on what seems to be feelings of inadequacy or desolation, which are not only painful to read, but when coupled with irresistibly catchy rock ‘n’ roll riffs (most notably on “Weak”) are utterly devastating. It’s difficult to  know whether to dance or to cry. There is other subject matter, however, and we are granted a victorious roar in “Better Than A Kick In The Head” which, whilst making a touching love song full of tenderness, retains a sense of masculinity with its ballsy title, chorus and lexical focus on gambling and violence. Further, there isn’t one filler track on this album- not one moment of musical weakness.  We are, however, granted slight relief in the group’s cover of Bob Marley’s “Concrete Jungle” which takes the foot off the pedal off self- loathing for a few minutes before hitting the accelerator once again in this frenzied joy ride destined towards a world of heart break and futility.

                This truly is one of the greatest albums ever produced. Nowhere else have I read such fantastic lyrics able to convey so much in one line. Combine this with highly organised song structures- and throw in tight musicianship to boot and you have not just an exciting venture but an endearing work of art. What this album does is take a primal and primitive sound, enhance the production and use this as a backdrop to McFadden’s gargantuan growling of the most troubled lyrics I have ever heard. What you are left with, ladies and gentlemen, is a masterpiece that has homogenised the finest, grittiest elements of Oi! and punk- rock and given them a swift kick up the back passage for good measure. Quite simply, this is one of the most beautiful albums I have ever heard.

THE BELTONES "On Deaf Ears" Album Review

For those who have followed The Beltones and had the pleasure of hearing their most recent album “Cheap Trinkets”, “On Deaf Ears” feels like somewhat of a bridging of the gap- a stepping stone in progress between early demos and the fully fledged band we see at the end of their recording career. This is not to say that 1999’s “On Deaf Ears” is an inferior work- far from it. In fact, the question of which of The Beltones’ two full length albums is the finer is a near impossible one to answer.

“On Deaf Ears”, whilst having fewer songs, less frequent soul- shattering lyrics, and less fine tuning, is nonetheless near perfect. Any deficiency- or what some may see as a deficiency- brings with its own special and unique charm. The simplistic and raw production, less layered than its counterpart, provides a crass, blunt, punch- in- the- mouth sound. From the opening gambit (“My Old Man”) this band kicks you in the balls, spits rage in your face and nails a bottle of whiskey whilst you’re still bumbling around on the floor in utter shock. The lyrical focus of this record seems a little more care free in places and certainly isn’t as self- loathing as “Cheap Trinkets”. Tracks such as “Lock and Load”, “Casualty” and “Shoot the Shit”, show a gentler, more innocent aspect of The Beltones. These tracks are nonetheless interspersed with songs exploring the themes of alcoholism, depression, hatred, isolation and loss.

“Let The Bombs Fall”- the album’s last track- is quite possibly the most beautiful, harrowing and devastating song I have ever heard. The lyrics appear to be a direct and personal account of the loss of lead singer William McFadden’s mother and read less like a song more like an account of an erratic and disturbed convulsion of events surrounding said tragedy.  No song to my knowledge has ever portrayed loss- and the subsequent tendency towards nihilism, a hatred for the entire world and an apathy when considering the feelings of others as honestly and concisely as this lyricist.

“Fuck You Anyway” is another fine moment- an anthemic manifesto that upon hearing, every misfit, reject and loser wishes they had penned it first. Never has a song explicated such visceral defiance in the face of the “beautiful people” tormenting the protagonist and his listening counterparts in such a calm and calculated fashion.

Mr. McFadden should surely be credited as the most underrated poet on the planet. I have yet to discover a lyricist with as much finesse both in writing and in execution. These aren’t songs- these are diary entries of an at times screaming, writhing and struggling genius’ life set to music. Never has there been a band like this.

The Specials @ Manchester Carling Apollo UK, 03/05/2009

Sometime reunions just shouldn’t happen. The band in question should leave well alone- it’s never going to be as raw, fresh or immediate as the old days and everyone knows when you’re in it for the money. Those that they know this and try and convince us otherwise only expose their lack of integrity and leave us screaming “have some dignity for goodness’ sake!” Thankfully the 2Tone sensibilities of legendary ska band The Specials not only preserve the group’s dignity, but re-ignite the excitement of the good old days for all who attend the 30^th Anniversary tour which tonight plays to the Manchester Carling Apollo.

                As soon as I step out of the car I am greeted by a bizarre site outside the Apollo; namely hundreds- perhaps thousands of skinheads almost identically dressed. It’s as though I’ve been transported back to the volatile 1980’s- or stumbled onto the set of “This Is England”. The pub behind the venue is heaving and it takes a good 20 minutes of negotiating a path through Ben Sherman shirts and Fred Perry polos before actually getting served. This struggle is short lived, however, as the shaven headed throng gravitate towards the venue.

                Supporting The Specials are Kid British- a lively group who fuse rap, hip hop and ska together and even perform a re-working of Madness’ “Our House” which gets the crowd skanking. This is followed by a DJ set of skinhead reggae and ska during which not a soul is sat down. From the barrier to the rafters, the room is alive, and chants of “Rude Boy” are becoming ever more agitated and prevalent. The mood is akin to that of a pre- match football crowd- apprehensive, high spirited and pumped with adrenaline.

                When The Specials do take to the stage, a convulsion jerks through the crowd from the stage speakers to the highest seats at the back as skinheads, rude boys and mods dance energetically to the classics- “Do the dog”, “Concrete Jungle” (vocals are performed by Roddy Radiation on this song as lead singer Terry Hall nips out the back for a cigarette) and “Monkey Man” light a fire under Manchester’s feet that won’t be stomped out any time soon- not even by the bouncing soles of Dr. Marten boots! Musically, nothing has changed. If you were expecting lumbering podgy 50- somethings to amble onto the stage and make a pathetic attempt at reliving the glory days, sorry, but that just isn’t on the cards. The Specials are as vital as they were in ’79. Bravest of all, the collective venture into a performance of the definitive hit "Ghost Town"- probably the most impressive song of the night due to their ability to recreate the studio sound live- even the high pitched child- like vocals mid- way through.

                It’s safe I think to say that nobody could have predicted quite as strong an anniversary tour as this. No nostalgia as such, more a redefining of good times and good music that still feels so relevant 30 years on. No slacking, no lazy renditions and no compromise of credibility. 

Off With Their Heads @ Moho Live Manchester UK, 31/08/2010.

Off With Their Heads’ performance at Moho Live Manchester was one of the more interesting spectacles I have witnessed, largely due to the extreme juxtaposition of two incredibly present and tangible elements. The first being the harrowing tenacity, vitriol and relentless tirade of confrontation that is the Off With Their Heads set, and the second being the almost completely apathetic reception it is greeted with (save for two or three souls dancing and singing with the band at the front of the stage). The crowd seems to be predominantly made of thick- rimmed glasses, black fringes and rucksacks unwilling to engage with highly emotive and emphatic lyrics played against a back drop of catchy riffs and well- structured Punk Rock, who are instead content to sigh with folded arms as if the embodiment and expression of apathy was this month’s big thing. For tonight, it seems, Off With Their Heads might have felt more vitality playing to a set of mirrors.

 This of course is a shame as Minnesota’s greatest misfits bring us a performance so profound and devastating that I myself am left in a state of utter awe. Self- berating classics such as “I Am You” which can be found on the masterpiece “From The Bottom” are always going to be impressive live to say the least, and the band’s fantastic ability to convey emotions that sit uneasily in the pit of one’s stomach against heroic melodies and jaunty guitar ventures is truly inspired. Other songs that provoke positive reactions from the two or three fans engaging in this performance are “Self Checkout”, “Die Today” and a fantastic rendition of The Beltones’ “Fuck you Anyway” which is co- sung by a crowd member wearing a The Beltones t- shirt.

It’s rare that we see this sort of modesty from such a painfully gifted band, and the willingness to pay tribute to somebody else’s art is moving. The lack of ego is what helps to make this band so important- seminal I would argue, and this is truly one of the most moving sets I have ever witnessed.

 I didn’t bother to watch a single one of the other two acts billed- or take a note of their names. What looked like a silly Sick Of It All tribute act took to the stage after Ryan Young and co at which point I lost interest and headed for the bar. Meanwhile, the mannequins of twenty minutes ago have become a little more animated and receptive. You surely have to question an audience’s tastes when more people are willing to dance and participate in what appeared at best to be a substandard Hardcore-by-numbers set and yet are unwilling to engage with a band that display such ingenuity and lyrical finesse as Off With Their Heads. No matter, a 45 minute set and a heavy night of drinking was more than enough to make this evening perfect- and I happily paid the full price of this ticket to see just one band. I headed off almost immediately after, with a couple of the fans I had seen dancing earlier. We’d had our fill and left the nonsense to the in- crowd.

Words by Seb Murphy- Bates, Picture by Sarah Pennock.

AGNOSTIC FRONT @ Moho Live, Manchester, UK, 18/07/2011. Reviewed.

    After hearing Agnostic Front’s latest offering (“My Life My Way”), you could forgive the average New York Hardcore fan for being a little sceptical in anticipation of last night’s show at Manchester’s Moho Live specifically with reference as to how the band would execute the lethal and brutal kind of set that has defined their very existence since 83’s "United Blood". If any such apprehension was present however, it failed to articulate itself amongst the shaven headed, Dr.  Martens wearing fans gathered in this sweaty underground venue. Rather, any seed of scepticism was crushed under the slam- dancing heels of Hardcore fans before being allowed to grow. Instead, a mood of enthusiasm and uninhibited camaraderie is expressed, as the front line of fans soon become acquainted not only with one  another but with lead vocalist Roger Miret as he makes his entrance from the side of the club, through his loyal fans and onto the stage. The message is clear: We are one.

    Agnostic Front begin their set with a brave choice- “City Streets” taken from “My Life My Way” which has received mixed reviews (even being cited as a “mid- life crisis” of an album by one reviewer) and is sure to pale in comparison to it’s to mighty predecessors “Another Voice” (which defined their modern sound) and “Warriors” (which pushed the boundaries of this new sound in my opinion as far as it could go, hence why the latest album feels a little tired and redundant)- but the experimental opener- which even utilises vocal effects- immediately provokes the kind of crowd reaction that is the bench mark of a true Hardcore gig as the stage diving, sing-a-longs and moshing commence. The true highlights though, are when Agnostic Front rinse through their finest material: Songs such as “Peace”, “Crucified” and “Gotta Go” demand the crowd’s full participation as fans scream lyrics alongside Roger Miret only to jump back into the crowd seconds later. Even the band’s security seem a little apprehensive- and after the show I overhear the chief of Agnostic Front’s security telling a fan that he was seconds away from being kicked out! Miret, Stigma and co. seem to welcome the mayhem, however, recognising that this is what makes a show tangible and real. It feels more like a conversation than a concert as Roger and Vinnie regularly interact with individuals, shaking hands, laughing and joking. This is communication at its very best- surely the essence of punk rock.

    Agnostic Front remind us of what they’re about by denying us an encore. None of that awful “cheers guys- you’ve been the best crowd ever- goodnight Manchester UK!” bullshit only to re- emerge five minutes later to play that song we’ve all been waiting for. No. It’s all been torn apart already- there are no more songs to thrash out- no more points to labour- and indulgence doesn’t sit well this audience so it’s just as well. The crowd got just what they wanted; no frills, no bullshit, no fringes- just pure fucking Hardcore. 

Words by Seb Murphy- Bates. Photography by Gemma Luz

Off With Their Heads' Ryan Young Interview! 16/09/2011

I recently caught up with lyricist, vocalist and guitarist Ryan Young of "Off With Their Heads" (Minnesota) who agreed to an interview. Here's what we talked about:

Why and how did OWTH form in the first place?

It formed when I was 22 years old in Minneapolis. I always hated it when bands broke up and started bands that sounded similar. OWTH was my first and last band that I will write songs for.  That's why we have had so many members. Everyone involved is welcome to be a part of this as long as they can handle it, but I will keep doing it until I finally die, which probably won't be that long from now.

What is the main driving force and motivation behind your music and lyrics?

Stories about myself and trying to write simple and unique music to them. Most of the songs people like are the ones that we came up with a few days before recording. I guess you can work hard, or you can hack your way though things. I've tried both, but hacking seems to be my forte.

What message/messages to you hope to convey to the world through your music?

I don't really try to convey any message in my songs. I never think when I'm writing "Man, I hope someone can benefit from this". I dig from a place that is, in all actuality, kind of embarrassing. I think that's what makes it work out. In a way, it's sort of like a less cheesy Alkaline Trio. Those guys had a way of making me cringe at some of their earlier lyrics. I also still remember them 10 years later. I guess they might have been on to something.

How does the song- writing process usually go for OWTH?

I dictate pretty much everything. Justin (our at home drummer) and I sometimes get together and write songs, but these days most of our songs come from my brain. That's why they be so bananas.

Would you consider yourself a part of a wider punk- rock community/ scene or do you prefer to avoid pigeon- holing and labelling yourselves?

When I was younger, I was a part of the DIY scene in the US. I set up shows and devoted my life to taking care of bands on the road. Since I no longer have a home or a place to help people out, I've become pretty detached from that scene. All of the people involved with it at that time are still my friends, but I get the feeling that a lot of the newer DIY people don't understand where we came from. That pretty much makes me think alot of them are idiots. They write us off because of the choices we made as a band, but have no idea what its like to walk in our shoes. Plus, most of those people are just going through a phase. I play music until I finally kill myself or die from it. Fuck the snobs.

What do you think of the state of punk rock today? Is there anything that pisses you off in particular or do you have a generally positive attitude to the “scene”?

I don't care about a punk scene any more. I like music. I don't need an umbrella to hide under. Most of the shit that punk bands fought for for years isn't really an issue. You have these boner bands fighting about sexism- it's really funny. I've never seen a problem with that at our shows: If there's someone being a fuck, we all get rid of them. It's that easy. They don't come back. People like to cause a big fuss over shit that doesn't exist so that they can have something to complain about. That side of punk is irritating and phony- I just like to get down from time to time. I think women and gay people are better than me. 

I once read that OWTH make “no fucking sense” due to your brilliant and inexplicable ability to make the listener feel simultaneously elated and depressed through their music. How intentional is this contrast?

I wouldn't call anything I do brilliant- I'm just some dude that likes to watch movies and take Vicodin. It started as a joke. The joke sounded good, so we thought we would push it. Then the joke became real. Then the real thing that started with the joke seemed to help people. I still hate everything I've ever done. The next record will be good though.

Songs such as “I Am You” and “Trying to breathe” (amongst others) seem to carry a cathartic quality in their composition and performance. How far do you use your music as a means to exorcise certain demons?

I don't know- I just write about the shitty days- then I bottle that up and try and let it out when we tour. There are tons of times on tour where things get a little more out of control than I can handle- it seems to be getting worse as time goes on. The less responsibility I have on the road, the more trouble I get into- that's why I tour manage and usually drive the band. It keeps me out of trouble.

OWTH are renowned for their introspective and highly personal lyrics, but on “From The Bottom” we are offered a glimpse of a socio/political commentary of sorts with “Terrorist Attack”. Why don't you include more of these types of songs in your work?

That song was specifically about something that happened to me in Minneapolis (our home town).  When a massive bridge collapsed a few years ago, Fox news reported that it was a possible terrorist attack, even though there was no evidence of that being the case. Trust me, the next time something hits that close to home, I'll write about it. Everything going on in the middle east is hugely important right now. I won't write about it until it directly affects me in my home. It's none of my business.

 If you had to pick one album that helped more than any other to influence the band’s direction and sound, what would it be and why?

Probably Dillinger Four's "Midwestern Songs of the Americas" (or whatever its called). That was the record and band that introduced me to the underground. It's angry, catchy, sad and happy all at the same time. They are one of the only bands that I can still watch and be moved by.  I challenge you to find a D4 show that we are at where I am not flying through the air into the crowd or singing backups. I love them, and they have helped me to no end.

Which do you consider OWTH’s finest moment to date?

Nothing specific. We have done more than I ever thought we would. I cant believe people like what I do. Thats a good feeling. I honestly never would have thought that the little hillbilly me from MN would get to tour with Bad Religion, Youth Brigade, Bouncing Souls, Dropkick Murphys and even fucking Municipal Waste. Pretty awesome things.

Along the same lines, does any OWTH show stand out in particular from over the years as the most poignant?

Any time we play in Chicago, its the best. Thats a fucking great city, and I appreciate every single one of those people that come out and support us. There are other places where the shows are as well attended, but for some reason it means more to me there than anywhere else.

If OWTH never existed, what do you suppose you’d be doing now?

I would definitely be dead. I cant work shitty jobs. I tried. It just isn't for me. If I had to have a job now, I guess I don't really know what I would do. We'll see soon enough, I'm sure.

Is there anything in the pipeline for OWTH at the moment or are you guys mainly just touring?

Recording for our split with Discharge this weekend, touring europe starting next week, and then working on the next record.

Ryan Young, thank you for your time.