I usually start my reviews with a breakdown of who the band is, but if you don’t know who these guys are, stop reading now and return to the rock that you have been hiding under for the past 40 years. 

The first single I ever bought was “Rise” by Public Image Ltd. I have to admit, as a rebellious teenager, I was, primarily drawn to it because of the cover – for those who don’t remember it just had the word ‘Single’, in black in a basic font on a plain white background. Then it was anarchic, these days it’s iconic. I only wish I still had it, as well as being a great song, it also might be worth a bob or two. 

So being invited to watch them live at the Uni was a no brainer. 

Knowing that they were all sold out and anticipating a busy night, I arrived at the Lemon Grove nice and early and headed to the bar – heads up guys, get some more staff! Those poor bastards were rushed off their feet and taking a lot of flack for not serving the thirsty hoards quicker. After I finally got served I made my way to snag my place at the front, my first big mistake…. Had I known how packed it was going to be, how hot and how good the acoustics were, I may have chosen to join my lackadaisical comrades at the back, rooky mistake! 

So, there I was, checking my watch, fanning myself with an old polling card I found in my bag, praying that they wouldn’t be late on, but fully expecting them to be…  anarchy innit?.... An assembly of punk royalty entered the room and took to the stage , Lu Edmonds, Bruce Smith, John Lydon and their bassist Scott Firth. My heart did pound a little faster, I have to admit… that could have been due to the cider, but I don’t think so. 

After a couple of songs, John, dressed curiously in a monochrome chefs apron – a nod to SKA maybe? – started to heckle the audience, “Don’t you all look fucking old?!” he shouted and as I looked around I realised that he was right! Apart from a smattering of 20 somethings, the audience was predominantly a mosh of menopausal women and aging men, reliving their youth, watching their Johnny Rotten, safety pins, glue bags and tartan replaced by mortgages, kids and receding hairlines. 

Lydon’s voice remains ageless, using reverb and echo and his natural vibrato – yes, I am really referencing vibrato while reviewing post punk – it’s a thing of beauty. 

The band played the classics, including ‘This is Not a Love Song’ and ‘Rise’. The encore came with a side of ‘The Public Image’, before exiting with everyone, not so much baying for more (although I could have stayed all night) but rather baying for a nice cup of tea, a reclining sofa and to get back before the babysitter started charging over-time. 

These guys maybe no spring chickens, but their music is still very relevant, with their solid drums, bass drone and nod to techno, what more could one want?  Maybe a buttered crumpet? 

So, all in all, an ‘A Star’ night. I still want to know what was with that fucking apron though….

Review by Charlotte Cooper

Photography by Rhodri Cooper