Buzzcocks are the British royalty of Punk. Originators and we pay homage tonight to the relentless buzz riffing metronome drone.
The unholy trinity is Sex, Cocks and Clash.
The BBC attempted a mutant hybrid comedy show they named Never Mind the Buzzcocks. Against expectations it took off and the show endured, to the bands chagrin.
The Buzzcocks were also part of the famous Clash White Riot tour of 1977.
In New Zealand, Punk broke in 1977 with Radio with Pictures and radio DJ Barry Jenkins supremely influential shows. He resembled the legendary Wolfman Jack with his beard and radio baritone.
For high school kids it was the revolutionary Art movement which defined a generation. We all wanted to be Punks in attitude and philosophy.
The buzz cuts or the spiked hair. Ripped jeans, black op-shop jackets, badges, Doc Martens (or the knockoffs).
Women were allowed, or they just muscled in and created their own space. Siouxsie Sioux and Chrissie Hyndes were originally groupies and sartorially influenced the Boot Girl fashion.
There is an electrifying moment when Steve Diggle, original guitarist, races on stage and the band smashes out.. I just wanna lover like any other what do I get!
We are in the Glorious Present. Time telescopes in, only to explode out again, and we are inside the Big Bang.
I am immediately reminded of the only show the original Sex Pistols did in New Zealand. Sometime around the late Eighties, in a big tent at Mt Smart Stadium.
Chris Knox was raving to us. I think he was caught in raptures. The show was magnificent and emotional, especially with Glen Matlock being there with the other three. Johnny Rotten John Lydon was all outrageous stand-up comedian between songs.
It is the same emotional uplift tonight, sustained for close to ninety minutes.
The others. Mani Perazzoli guitar, Chris Remington bass, Danny Farrant drums.
They reel off Power Pop classics relentlessly. I Don’t Mind, Everybody’s Happy, Promises.
Senses Out of Control has the power and economy of classic Ramones.
I saw the Brothers once in New Zealand. It was here at the Powerstation. They had honed their presentation to dozens of songs, each prefaced by One Two Three Fuck!
Each song you had to wait for a minute to recognise. As soon as you did it was over.
The Buzzcocks have the same manic energy, and it does take a few beats to recognise each tune.
Fast Cars and Autonomy is brutal bass and guitar meshed riffing. Can’t help thinking that their influence laid some foundations for Pearl Jam (who we saw just last evening). And some of the post-Ramone bands like Husker Du.
Orgasm Addict is over in a minute, or so it seems. But you still a-beating your meat to a pulp.
It has been observed that Rock’n’roll is not really sex music at all. It’s too fast and frantic. Unless you get the tempo right.
Listen to the Who’s I Can’t Explain. Pete Townsend is all riff as he gets that pumping action of fast and slow and just avoiding climax.
The companion song to that is Party Lights by Claudine Clark, who wrote, produced and played the drums in Keith Moon fashion. Before Keith.
Different strokes for different folks.
The Cocks were consciously less political than the Pistols or the Clash. They wrote catchy hooks and sly observational lyrics which Ray Davies would have appreciated.
The Smiths made a different art form out of the same intent, but incorporating classic British stand-up comedy with their gritty realism films. Mike Leigh and Ben Elton.
Morrissey and Marr attended the same Manchester Lesser Free Trade Hall Sex Pistols gig in 1976 that kicked off the Punk movement in that city.
Organised by Buzzcock founders Pete Shelley and Howard Devoto.
Manchester Rain is squalling punky attitude. The same that helped fire the Gallagher brothers. You could say it is the Power Pop version of the Temptations classic I Wish It Would Rain.
How do you find that feeling you just can’t hide yet? / Standing in the Manchester Rain.
Bad Dreams they dedicate to the Ukraine. Ferocious and fast, just like all the rest. A nod to European politics and tensions.
Why Can’t I Touch It? A good example of their typical chug rhythm built around the bass guitar. One of the secrets to their trade mark sound.
Modern English are not a band I knew much about, except the name was associated with Post Punk and Art School New Wave in the early Eighties.
A friend told me they sounded like Joy Division, which was enough bait to get me to catch their early set.
Robbie Grey is an interesting front man lead singer. He looks like an austere William Burroughs, and he moves in a jerky unsyncopated white boy fashion like David Byrne.
Sixteen Days and Gathering Dust leads out, and they do sound like Talking Heads if they had started Art School in London instead of New York City.
The dance beat is metronomic, they layer in quirky melodic guitars and keyboard accents.
I did not see a keyboard on stage. Two guitars, a bass and drummer, but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t there.
More New Order than the Joys, the groove they generate is infectious and soon the audience are responding.
Hooks and quirks abound, eventually we hear swirling sci-fi effects.
I Melt with You is one their most popular. Nice jangling guitars and lyrics with Ray Davies English sly humour. They finish it with a fast Rockabilly train coming down the tracks flourish.
Buzzcocks energy levels never flag. That’s down to Diggle who maintains the hyperactivity. He assumed the lead singer role when Pete Shelley passed away in 2018.
Nothingless World has some of the off-beat rhythm and angular guitar chanks that ear-marked the early Clash.
Cocks founder Howard DeVoto was influenced by Captain Beefheart (like the Clash), and he included a cover on his later Magazine project.
Coming to the close, they tear it up again with… Ever fallen in love with someone you shouldn’t have fallen in love with.
Harmony in My Head is scathing social commentary which they jam on and extend.
Buzzcocks still can burn with incandescent rage.
Rev. Orange Peel
Photography by Leonie Moreland
Buzzcocks
Modern English
