Shall I do the cliches? Punks not dead but it’s got a mortgage and a beer belly? Nah! Who cares and sod the quiz show when you’ve got a room full of happy people with ringing ears watching Buzzcocks prove their prowess and their passion.
In Cardiff warming up for an All Tomorrow’s Parties bash at Minehead and playing classics from their earliest recordings, Buzzcocks drew a crowd looking to throw back the years. A few still had the mohicans and spikes but most remembered their youth in T-shirts celebrating the visiting Mancunians and the likes of The Clash, UK Subs, Dead Kennedys and Chelsea.
Newport four piece Town acknowledged the debt their accomplished poppy punk owed to the headliners – the first song they learned was one of theirs they said – I bet they say that to all the big bands. It must be tough being a support band – I expect someone’s written a novel about it – facing a half-sober, arms-crossed crowd with impress-me faces but Town took a running jump at it. They’ve got tunes as well, some of them with big choruses and nice harmonies and they play them with energy and belief. They threw in a bit of ska too. They’re in a crowded marketplace but they’re good looking lads and the frontman’s certainly got that arrogance about him so I don’t see why they shouldn’t go some places.
Strawberry Blondes gave a passionate set a good full-throated go and were rewarded by the crowd for it. They certainly surprised me whan two songs in a young lady with a trumpet appeared and set about it with an admirable get-up-and-do-it punk rock gusto. A crowd pleasing Message to You Rudy got people bouncing but it seemed as it they had to cut short their set and they may have had some problems with their gear.
Buzzcocks hit the ground running, spitting out Boredom and ploughing straight ahead in Punk’s amphetamine spirit. It took everyone’s breath away and by the time of I Don’t Know What To Do With My Life the pit was definitely starting to turn a little moshy and a man to my left had begun a solitary, manic pogoing that didn’t let up and probably wouldn’t do his knees any favours in the morning.
You’d expect a band who’s been going this long to know what they’re doing – and Buzzcocks certainly do, spectacularly so – but you also might fear a bit of cynicism or a feeling of going through the motions. One look at Steve Diggle dispells that: he’s electric, respendent in black polka dots and attacking a semi-accoustic Rickenbaker as if his life depended on it. He windmills and pogos, shares jokes with those down the front and waves the mic stand over the crowd.
Pete Shelley smiles away like a benovelant uncle as he sings those wonderful smart sarcastic songs, laughing at his lyrics and arching his eyebrows at the clever bits while the audience provide backing vocas on What Do I Get?. They go through the pantomime bit of going off before finishing with a resplendent encore. “Come on,” shouts Diggle before they charge into You’re Shit, “We’re in fucking Wales, let’s hear it!” Ever Fallen in Love is a joyous singalong and Orgasm Addict gets the mosh pit to its moshiest.
Bassist Pete Barber and Diggle and Shelley are all over the front of the audience, shaking hands and high fiving people who’ve come to see their heroes and absolutely love them for absolutely loving what they do.
Welsh Icons has heard there could be exciting plans afoot for this venue – which was a switch from the Coal Exchange – hopefully they’ll be able to sort out some of the issues with sight lines inside.
Photograph: Strawberry Blondes by Dom from Welsh Icons Flickr.
