Review by Gary Spiller for MPM
“They ask if you’re all right
You say yes
But all the time you know
It’s just a mess
It’s 5pm. and you’re on your way home
Just another day
With that endless grey drone”
‘Three Minute Hero’ – The Selecter
With the switchover to GMT any final forlorn and ultimately vain vestiges of seasons prior are well and truly over for the year. Unlike the summer this evening’s focal points of entertainment are however from finished. North meets the South; Manchester collides with Guildford as The Stranglers and their special guests Buzzcocks team up for a spectacular tour. Between them these road-warriors have given the faithful nigh on a combined century (deducting the latter’s hiatus for the bulk of the 80s) of punk and beyond.
From innovators to institutions these outfits are a brace of prime selections from the draw entitled ‘Three Minute Heroes’. This is a pairing with a good deal in common with one another; line-up changes and the passing of key personnel have all been endured whilst all the while the cogs of the machinery have been kept turning. As such, both acts are given utter reverence and loyal attention, as is totally befitting, throughout a hot and steamy evening in a Bristol Beacon that is absolutely rammed to the gunnels.
Opening up the evening in typical pragmatic industrious fashion Buzzcocks tear through a 45-minute set that bristles with a cracking retrospection of the band’s late 70s hey-day along with a healthy dollop of more recent material. The quartet enter from stage left to the strains of Strauss’ Also sprach Zarathustra, otherwise known as the theme to 2001 : A Space Odessey, with the distinctive sustained bass bursting into a brass-driven fanfare that further elevates an already heightened level of collective expectations.
Taking his station at his mic Steve Diggle, sole-surviving member of what is regarded as the ‘classic lineup’, gives the Beacon an appreciative thumbs up. An 11-track barrage gets underway with the iconic rumbustious buzzsawing of the impactful ‘What Do I Get?’; what better place to begin than the band’s first ever top 40 single? Stoical bassist Chris Remington is in head down mode hammering out the low-end whilst guitarist Mani Perazzoli and drummer Danny Farrant inject the energy.
Razor-sharp, as ever, ‘I Don’t Mind’ sustains the frenetic pace as the years are brusquely rolled back. “[I] remember playing here in the 70s” quips Diggle as he thanks the Bristol crowd following the punked harmonised powerage of ‘Promises’. There’s little time to draw breath as the latter-day snarling beast ‘Senses Out of Control’ sits comfortably in its position immediately following the strongarm opening triplet of classics.
The ponderous meanderings of ‘Why Can’t I Touch It?’ change the gears from the hard-edged ‘Sick City Sometimes’ as Buzzcocks finally get a chance to gather their senses. The internal atmospherics rise to sticky and sweaty as, commencing with a rallying chant of “Oi, oi, oi!”, ‘Destination Zero’ proves more than equal.
As if in recognition of these internal climatics debut single ‘Orgasm Addict’ ensues hustling and bustling. Banned by the BBC with the late, great Pete Shelley by all accounts admitting his personal embarrassment it’s a staple anthem from the ‘Sound of the Suburbs’ era. Only question I have is how the heck did it not get near the top 40 of the singles chart back in its day? Its piledriving explosions (pardon the pun guv’nor) are full of teenage angst and the Beacon detonates in reception.
A poignant homage to their home city ‘Manchester Rain’ bounces along jauntily and its position in the set preceding the set-closing one-two slam demonstrates the strength of feeling the band have with this 2022 release. There can be no finer tribute to Shelley’s legacy in the humblest of my opinions. If the Beacon wasn’t pogoing before then it certainly is as the timeless ‘Ever Fallen in Love (With Someone You Shouldn’t’ve) – the band’s chart peak performance topping out at 12 – ups the ante.
“Let’s take the roof off this fucking place” roars Diggle challengingly afore attaining mission successful with the pugilistic curtain call of ‘Harmony in My Head’. Penned by the frontman its razor-wire punk kinetics well and truly induce structural damage and provides the perfect paving for The Stranglers following on.
“Everyone say goodbye to the twat in the glasses” sneers The Stranglers’ frontman Baz Warnes, furthering the putdown of an unseen heckler with the exceedingly quotable “Go on home and crack one out!” It’s punk as you like and the despatch of this one troublesome individual is, naturally, well received by the Bristol Beacon gathering.
Barrelling out of the UK’s pub rock scene of the 70s The Stranglers, with an aggressive ethos, were quickly regarded as part of the nascent punk scene of the middle of that decade. However, there was several things that set them firmly apart from the majority of their peers. Rarely following a singular genre The Stranglers’ prominent swirling keys, melodious basslines and rasping, oft-incisive lyrics melded elements of their pub-rock roots with those of new wave with a touch of art rock pursued by the likes of XTC.
For an hour and a half we’re sumptuously treated to an absolute masterclass with a consummate mixture of singles renown and cuts from deeper levels that haven’t been aired for a few years or more. Quite incredibly there’s just 11 survivors from last May’s 50th anniversary two-set extravaganza here; but then with a career spanning 18 studio albums and 51 singles it’s one hell of a task to curate that pleases all with each and every selection.
The majestic tones of Edith Paif’s ‘Non, je ne regrette rien’ get the Beacon gently swaying as ears of corn in a summer breeze belying the mayhem that is about to be unleashed. Ushering the quadrumvirate of elements that are The Stranglers onto the spacious Beacon stage the French songstress’ classic has created a sparkling ambiance.
An air that is just perfect for the striking keyed intro of ‘Goodbye Toulouse’ – courtesy of most recent addition Toby Hounsham – to gatecrash. Joined by the percussive forces of the earthquaking Jim McAuley the scene is set for the trademark bass ruminations of sole-remaining founder Jean-Jacques Burnel. Frontman Baz Warnes takes to the fray battering riffs from his Telecaster. The following 90 minutes are guaranteed to flash by.
Warnes, with his nose pressed upon the mic, leads the men in black in storming the bastions with the feral offering ‘Straighten Out’. Following the opening brace from the 70s we slip in the 80s for the pairing of the hooky ‘Was It You?’ and the ageless classic ‘Skin Deep’ with its coruscant keys. “Cheers Tuesday, it must be Bristol” notes Warne in between before furthering an enquiry “Did you miss us?” The reply, expectedly, is naturally in the affirmative.
Chugging into the 21st century ‘15 Steps’ troops along with an underlying enjoyable rockabilly shuffle that Volbeat have on occasion indulged in. Burnel steps forth for an encounter with the mic for the snarling, searing single-only release ‘5 Minutes’. Other incursions, at regular intervals, occur with the indomitable bassist taking the baton for the melancholic ‘Instead of This’ and the 60s vibe of ‘Thrown Away’ in addition to the pulsing ‘White Stallion’ and hook, line, and sinker joyous bark of ‘Something Better Change’.
Warne rocks on the balls of his heels ahead of striking the opening chords of the sparkling ‘Tramp’ – returning to the set after a decade-long break according to setlist fm – before we to the early 80s territory of the top 10 of the UK singles chart with the haunting new wave of ‘Strange Little Girl’ and the seemingly immortal ‘Golden Brown’. Cradling his black Telecaster Warnes despatches those memorable lines whilst Burnel’s bass quakes gently and, all the while Hounsham’s delicious keys add that unmistakable eastern spice. Watching on in enthralled awe the Beacon erupts at the final notes.
The buoyant ‘Pin Up’, veering into an almost Kraftwerk direction, is the most apt aperitif for the unmistakable strains of ‘Peaches’. Two strikes of Burnel’s four-string are all that is required as the ubiquitous rodents scamper about and Bristol loudly shows its appreciation. The stomping of ‘Mercury Rising’ keeps the set ticking along into the latter stages.
Amidst a sequence of rarely played live tracks keyboardist Hounsham takes the vocal duties for the quirky ‘Dead Ringer’ in what proves to be a popular addition to the set. Mayflies spark vividly for the compelling enthral of ‘Breathe’. The Beacon seems to reverentially hold its breath with Warne, hunkered over his guitar, hushfully sings.
A boisterous ‘Something Better Change’ leads the charge into the closing stages of the main body. Anthem ‘Duchess’ takes the baton for the penultimate leg for some football terrace-like lusty singalongs ahead of the particularly scorching ‘Hanging Around’, one of my all-time favourite Stranglers’ tracks. Minimal pulsing keys atop the tapping of cymbals lead into oh-so familiar six-string and then the eagerly awaited growling seismic bass. If there’s any more pleasurable, I sure haven’t discovered it yet.
After a brief two-minute interlude the band return for an encore treble that begins with the gentle uplifting delicate tone amidst the roar of the crowd-pleasing ‘Always The Sun’. Absent from the live forum for over a decade the 12-bar rock n’ roll shuffle of ‘Mean to Me’ is a complete surprise. It’s nod to the ilk of Chuck Berry and Quo provides a freight-train boogie that doffs a cap to the band’s heritage. There’s only one track to finish the night off and with the legendary ‘No More Heroes’ The Stranglers provide the ultimate in curtain calls. From innovators to institution, it’s been one heck of a journey. Thanks for the last 51 years!
Photography by Kelly Spiller for MPM
