Iggy Pop, Blondie, Generation Sex, Stiff Little Fingers, Buzzcocks and The Lambrini Girls 1.7.2023 at Crystal Palace Park
As the day approached, I realised what a huge treat was coming. What an assembly – a special nostalgic day in London, albeit a more difficult to find bit of London. The long, quite narrow strip cordoned off for this was a new one on me, holding around 25,000 people.
It wasn’t the Bowl and wasn’t the Athletics Stadium I saw The Beautiful South and Texas at in 1997. We shared a cab up to the south side of this enormous park with a couple from our Bromley Hotel – cabs were in demand – I was there with gig buddy Dave for this and meeting a few others inside. Then the long haul uphill through the park, before a nervous and prolonged queue for a wristband to get us in to the upgraded area (a laughable option here), while we sweated over Internet connectivity issues – phone only tickets on this one.
Lucky the bands were so good, the sound was tip top and it didn’t rain, because the queues for everything, the cramped set up and just getting in seemed intent on screwing up a great day.
I heard the Lambrini Girls in the distance as we queued, staring at the staffed but closed windows, alongside the busy ones.
A few beers (Hobgoblinđź‘Ť) before making our way down along the front right side for Buzzcocks, while there was a bit of room down there. This became our pitch for the day – a day which got busier and busier but once in a spot it’s easy to stick to it and put down a few markers (Keith’s rug and crisps and a few bags) and resist space invaders. (Later on, Pete Bennett, the guy who won Big Brother with Tourette’s turned up next to us with friends. He didn’t encroach on the rug.)
Having seen Buzzcocks many times, going back to 1980 (when NME suggested they were past it) the Buzzcocks without the departed Pete Shelley are a tricky one to sell. I listened to Steve Diggle talking on the literary stage at Rebellion Festival last year though – he just can’t stop and felt he needed to go on doing all he knows. Fair enough. It’s still enjoyable but different.
Manchester Rain from the post Shelley 2022 album is a good example of why Buzzcocks are still a worthy listen. Hearing the old classics on a sunny day in a field (it’s no better than a field) is irresistible. I was intrigued by the signing woman in front of the stand to the right. I pondered the experience of being deaf at a gig it got me thinking ..and are there many needing that intensely active signing service. The prospect of Buzzcocks playing Orgasm Addict dawned. They did and I have to admit I peered over curiously but nothing obviously notable to report.
With Harmony in My Head being the big single with Diggle vocals, it was inevitable perhaps that this was the finale…. a 10-minute epic to stamp the Diggle mark on this new Buzzcocks line-up.
Next up Stiff Little Fingers. I always enjoy SLF and this afternoon is no exception. Standing amongst a crowd pretty much all around my age I found this respectful gathering almost emotional. Early on the bill but Jake Burns has the crowd.
With shorter than the normal tour stage time, Jake and the guys have little option but to go for it (pun intended), firing out the classic air punching choruses, starting with Tin Soldiers and reaching a finale of Suspect Device and Alternative Ulster. Doesn’t matter how many times you hear that one, the excitement, passion and anger is still there.
The set is largely from the first two albums but there is the chance for Jake to call out for men hiding their mental struggles, as he did before sorting his: newer song My Dark Places marks that. Cover, It Doesn’t Make it Alright, by the late Terry Hall is another worthy inclusion to slow it down a bit. The anger of Wasted Life still hits the spot: ‘Stuff their f*cking armies, killing isn’t my idea of fun’. Great set.
And so I get to see this Generation Sex combination: this new Sex Pistols/ Generation X family. Enhanced by the 1977 gig footage as a backdrop – worked a treat as not many of us can jump up and down any more without a trip to a physio after.
I did see The Pistols, but only on the second coming in the 90s. We are all getting on a bit now and it’s easy to scoff at this initiative but when you see Billy Idol come on and open up with Pretty Vacant, backed by Cook and Jones…. well just enjoy it. I did. Never Mind the Bollocks is still a fantastic album and the Gen X material weaved in for extra less angry, more sneery, interest.
The stand out song of this much anticipated set for me was Bodies. Vile and angry. The song has lost none of it. Brilliant and stirring stuff. God Save the Queen, nearing the end, felt like an anthem for the day. I would like to see them in a small place with a longer set – it works. It isn’t going to be a long running collaboration I’m sure – just enough for one more for me to get to eh.
The original sound obviously comes out more on the Generation X songs that Billy Idol sang on in the late 70s, Ready Steady Go and Dancing With Myself the best of those, but Idol is good front for the Pistols material.
It was My Way to finish – from the Great Rock’n’Roll Swindle – the Sid Vicious take on it. While I can still hear it as a Sinatra belter, it has a misery about it when associated with the victim that Sid Vicious became.
And so a trip off to find a bog. Jesus. Mayhem. All these aging bladders and gridlock – urinals hidden behind a maze of other queues. Still, we put up with it don’t we. Pay the money and suffer in silence. The upgrade area was no better – I gave up in there first. Back to festival school whoever managed this one.
And after this breather – Blondie Ahhh. I suspect a lot of this crowd wouldn’t buy tickets to see Blondie these days, for one of their own shows. While they were right in that New York punk scene back in the day, and have all the credentials, they were a huge, mainstream pop rock band after the first few albums. But everyone’s glued. All eyes front.
Debbie Harry’s 78th birthday. A remarkable lady. A true legend. All seemed effortless up front on the vocals, while Clem Burke powered away on the drums. Sex Pistol Glen Matlock on bass, where he’s been since his surprise appearance for the April ’22 delayed UK tour I saw them on in Glasgow.
Parallel Lines, surely the best album, dominates: starting with One Way or Another and continuing with Hanging on the Telephone (you know that’s a cover?); Sunday Girl; Will Anything Happen and eventually the beautiful and dreamy Heart of Glass – arms waving in the air – my mate Chris enjoying his own little disco in front our protected rug space.
There were a few of the earlier punkier tracks – their first single X Offender and from the Plastic Letters LP, the cover of which I have on my wall at home, there was Detroit 442, sung with more grit.
I thought this set was a beauty. Maybe made better by the band enjoying the event as the support act, without the big tour attention. This was better than my two previous Blondie gigs – this is the one I want to remember.
And on to the master. The man I once heard referred to a ‘the King of Rock’ as I passed through US Customs in Miami airport…. well, the customs official bellowed it at the top of her voice, preceded by ‘oh my gaaaad it’s!….’
Iggy and his full band, including brass, take the stage. It felt like an epic gig happening. We’d had a great day but this was the main event and even though I could hardly count myself as an Iggy Pop fan – I did see him headline a Reading Festival Friday in 1988 – it was an impressive career spanning performance that the crowd were overtly happy with.
Within a few songs, Iggy had disposed of his waistcoat revealing, unashamedly, his seasoned old frame. This was rock’n’roll. What a guy. His voice was strong and growled.
Mid-set, Lust for Life and The Passenger come together – that’s all I needed to hear to fulfil my ambitions for the day but the set was rich in variety. Towards the end of the main set, I Wanna Be Your Dog sees Iggy gripping the mic stand and hanging on, contorted – his twisted hips more obvious. This body has survived so much life.
I had a look at the setlist and although Iggy Pop had a new album out in January, he only found room for two tracks from it, one being Frenzy to finish. I feel his work deserves more of my attention.
This Dog Day Afternoon was a cracker. A wonderfully balanced selection of sets from some big names in the punk hall of fame. The escape from the park was on. The battle for cabs and skirmishes for an Uber. We got lucky (thanks Gary) and were away. Great day.
As ever, all pics are my own – trusty Panasonic TZ90 pocket zoom.
A busy gig year has continued for me despite a rest in the blogs. 35 gigs and 74 different bands. I will catch up with some, not all, as I start doubling up on bands I‘ve already covered.
Gigs with Ivan 