Entering Fibbers I can see that the crowd are mostly very, very young, with a smattering of ageing punks and what I assume to be (strangely) dads of some of the bands. These kids seem to be discovering punk rock as filtered through The Dickies as in the case of DUCK SICK (I know it’s not the greatest name in the world but bear with me here – we like Crispy Ambulance at W&H and look at that name!) or skate punk as in Waster, or as in THE D4 through garage punks like the Ramones, Johnny Thunders or The Stooges. What they all have in common in wanting to recreate something from musical times gone by, but each band is able to add something else by dint of doing it years later and being informed by events since the original bands started.
I’m expecting great things from The D4 and am impressed that a band that have just stormed Glastonbury a couple of days ago are not too uppity to sit by the entrance on a couple of sofas, affably chatting to people. The support bands similarly mingle, occasionally jumping or leapfrogging members of the audience who are their mates, pouncing on them like the excited teenagers they are, bless ‘em! Suddenly I feel very old and presume I’ll be mistaken for one of the dads, except I’ve got a note pad rather than a video camera. It’s 25 years later and punk aspirations are ironically to be encouraged, though no TVs will be kicked in here – just watched with pride by the dads who are recording the event for posterity.
As the crowd swells before the first band some more 30- somethings arrive and I feel a little more at home.
DUCK SICK www.ducksick.co.uk hit the stage, forcing their mates to the front. Their singer is a very confident 17 year old who tells me he’s heard the Dickies through a friend and thought they were great – it beats listening to Eminem anyway!
The band are all decked out in white shirts and black ties with badges, patches and stuff all over, celebrating punk heroes etc. They begin their first song “RSM” and show themselves to be musically very, very tight. The bass playing especially is excellent, jittering, lithe and solid all at the same time, the drumming a powerful force and the guitarist by turn pounds and skanks. The singer blasts through the audience, pulling faces, exhorting dancing and being “in yer face.”
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There’s call and response vocals and lots of Madness style fun. Punk, like Mod and many other musical forms is always there to be renovated and is best in the hands of kids rather than the aging (balding) 40 somethings who are still peddling their original wares, thinking of The Damned’s recent embarrassing exploits on Jonathan Ross.
The singer uses a mobile phone ring tone to introduce the third song, this being post-modern punk. The vocals of this song remind me of The Dead Kennedys Jello Biafra and the band thrash magnificently.
The bands mates are feigning indifference, being cruelly blasé as only teenagers can be, but they must know that they’ve a fantastic band with a charismatic singer. A kazoo is employed in a song that reminds me vaguely of Blur’s “Bank Holiday” They can certainly rock. I hope my little boy’s doing something like this in another 15 or 16 years!
Maybe it says something about their infectious enthusiasm that I feel like writing so much about the support act, more so than some recent headliners I’ve seen. “Let’s skank!” they exhort, and the crowd respond enthusiastically to their Madness style pounding. I enjoy it so much I forget to take photos and have to pinch some from their site for this piece (oops!). I’ll bet double maths doesn’t seem half as exciting tomorrow morning!
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