venta

Some years ago, I refused to go and see the Stiff Little Fingers at the Zodiac, on the grounds that elderly punk bands ought really to have grown out of it, and I didn't want to encourage fat old blokes to go round trotting the same songs out, year after year.

A number of friends (primarily, I think,

liriselei?) told me that I'd missed a great night. Bah. Since then, after spectacular gigs from The Damned, The Buzzcocks and others, I've slightly rescinded my policy on elderly punk bands. So I pottered long to see SLF last night.

After some mad scrambling, I made it to the Zodiac in time to be only slightly late to meet

wimble there. And just neatly in time to hear the support act, Huron. Huron were, in my eyes, fairly typical support band material - solid, good at what they were doing, but just not quite enough to grab attention. A four piece who persistently confused me by having the singer way off on one side, and the bassist in the middle, they were what I mentally file as "tuneful blokey punk". There's a paticular kind of harmony you get in TBP bands, relying quite a lot on major thirds, which has a pleasingly solid feel to it. You know where you are with it, and you can hum along if you've never heard the song before.

So Huron filled in the gap nicely, and were mostly harmless, right up until their last few tracks, which were really quite noticeable. Everything seemed to go a little more 90s, a little more harsh, and a little bit Pearl Jam. And I rather liked it. If that's the direction they're heading in, then I wish them Godpseed, and hope to see them again in a year.

And then a longish wait for SLF, during which I discovered that the Zodiac hadn't stirred my lime and soda, so I drank through the soda-y part, and met near-undiluted lime cordial. Yeuch. Mind you, I was pleased to observe the following exchange among some fortyish-looking beer-bellied blokes standing nearby:

Bloke #1: <makes universal drinking gesture to Bloke #2>
Bloke #2: Please. A coke.
Bloke #1: <gives Bloke #1 The Look> That Look that's reserved everywhere for people who want a non-alcoholic drink. That Look that says you're letting the side down, what kind of a man are you?
Bloke #2: <waggles hands in front of face, miming turning a steering wheel>
Bloke #1: OK, then.

Thank goodness. The message is finally getting across.

But anyway. SLF came on stage. Now, earlier in the week when I suggested going to this gig to Wimble, he asked to borrow a album or two. I had to admit, somewhat shamefacedly, that I didn't own any. All I'd ever had was a played-to-death tape of Nobody's Heroes, taped from my uncle's vinyl. When challenged to suggest songs he might know, I came up with Alternative Ulster, Barbed Wire Love and Suspect Device, and realised I couldn't name any more.

Four blokes. Following the usual aged punk band rule which says that everyone except the drummer will end up looking like a gang member or a gameshow host. And they launched into a song which at the time I couldn't even name (At The Edge), and the part of my brain which remembers dancing round my bedroom ten years ago woke up and provided me with all the words.

Now, my comments about aging bands notwithstanding, I expect that 90% of people who go to see SLF these days want to hear Barbed Wire Love and Suspect Device and would be disappointed if they didn't. The singer disposed of worries early on:

There's a bloke down here <points to front of audience> who's going to have an aneurism before the set's out, yelling for all the songs that we're obviously going to fuckin' play. Just calm down, will you ?

And so people listened to the newer stuff, occasionally interspersed with older songs. And, while their sound hasn't changed a lot, they have written songs which are easily up to scratch. From a largely unfamiliar set, Each Dollar a Bullet and Walking Dynamite stood out. I'd like to investigate some of their newer albums.

And they still do what they always did well: multiple vocal lines, good riffs and unexpected changes of tempo. And yeah, my ears ended up a little fuzzy. And I still wish I'd been there when they first exploded on the scene. But I wasn't. And Wait and See, Doesn't Make It Alright (I didn't realise The Specials wrote that) and Nobody's Hero are still worth hearing.