A Guide to Great Live Albums (Part 4 of 4)
Gathered in Their Masses - Rod Laver Arena, Australia, 2013 (Black Sabbath)
The trio, backed by Ozzy’s solo drummer Tommy Clofetus, get proceedings underway by launching into one of many immortal classics, ‘War Pigs’, maybe one of the only ways you can properly open a Sabbath gig, the mammoth, epic guitar intro, backed by blaring air raid sirens and a phenomenal bassline is a truly cathartic moment, sounding at once dramatic and cinematic, but also palpably evil and tense. Then, once the sing-along verses get underway, Ozzy’s call-and-response with the audience works like magic, not only in showing the power of the fanbase they’ve built, but also how it lends to the iconography of Geezer’s potent lyrics. Following that, the main “chorus” riff is absolutely awesome, having a truly sinister, gnarly sonic bite, but also those great bluesy undertones, bolstered by an absolutely undeniably heavy rhythm section. As much as people have been critical of Ozzy’s live performance in recent years, and yes it’s not PERFECT, he sounds really in the zone here, not only with his anthemic, authoritative performance, but also in his unreplicatable crowd command, holding the crowd in his hands with every syllable. Of course, there’s also multiple brilliant solos from Iommi throughout the track’s expansive run time, and that final, progressive, cinematic section gives me chills every single time. It’s around now where I’d better give props to the engineer Greg Price. Now, absolutely, the Rodger Bain production on those initial LPs is amazing, and the fact that they might be comparatively “weedy” to modern metal doesn’t really matter too much to me. What Greg did though, is take these songs and make them sound way more muscular and huge than they ever have before. ‘Into The Void’ was an absolute monster on record anyway, but here, it’s practically roof-collapsing. That iconic, slow, doomy intro riff is THE scrunch face moment in the Sabbath catalogue, and the slamming drums and thick, grinding bass from Geezer and Tommy just make it hit with the force of a lead anvil, all while the crowd’s chants of “AY, AY, AY” echo across the arena like a cultish mantra. Getting into the verse though with that main groovy riff and slick, yet heavy rhythms is absolutely game over, and the guitar in combination with the bassline from Geezer is just immense. The fact the guys were making music this doomy and wicked in 1971 is unbelievable, and yet, my ears don’t deceive. All the while, Ozzy’s comparatively bright, but still notably sharp-edged and urgent vocal performance, cuts through the sonic clamour like a lighthouse in a storm, with a bit of Geezer’s great, industrialised sci-fi storytelling on the lyrical side too. Need I mention how absolutely exciting and blood pumping the speed change is in the bridge? I practically started pogoing in my chair. Starting off with two songs this legendary this early is a bold move for sure, but one that pays off nonetheless.
It doesn’t take too long though before we’re treated to some new material, and believe me, I’m all the gladder for it. Some may have taken issue with Rick Rubin’s blatant attempt to just make self-titled part 2, a grievance I definitely understand, damn if it didn’t make for some great songs. First up is ‘Loner’, a track who’s ultra catchy, groovy riff definitely conjures up some serious ‘Masters of Reality’ vibes, but is all the better for it. The rhythm underneath it being absolutely mean as anything also helps to, along with it having a couple really cool speed changes and guitar solos along its runtime just managing to hint at a slightly modified Sabbath sound. It’s worth saying as well that the performances Ozzy gives of all of these new tracks aren’t bad at all, and in fact can even be pretty compelling at points, particularly on this track, but his having to rely more on the autocue means he can’t quite go as “full Ozzy mode” as perhaps he or I would like. Still though, I think he does a very good job for the most part. Deluxe bonus track ‘Methademic’ getting an inclusion was certainly a surprise, but a welcome one no doubt. Unfortunately they chose to forego the acoustic intro, but this track is a total barn burner every day of the week. It’s absolutely one of Sabbath’s fastest paced tracks, Tony’s main riff along with the relentless, slamming groove reaches almost thrash metal, Pantera levels of intensity. Let it be known, Geezer is absolutely clambering away at the bottom of the mix, and it’s a wonderful thing, adding yet more industrial gnarliness to an already incredible track. On that topic, Ozzy’s more subdued, creepy and foreboding vocal delivery works incredibly well in the verses here to create a palpable intensity, while his more classically dramatic, belted choruses add a kind of stern, yet anxious vibe to proceedings, fitting very well with the track’s anti-drug message. There are also a couple of sonic experimentations that go over quite nicely, most notably the ghostly, almost Korn-coded guitar passages in the verses, which just add yet more fuel to the spine-chilling fire. Honestly, this track should not have been a bonus. I’d put it in the place of ‘Zeitgeist’ in a heartbeat.
They definitely saved the two longer and meatier tracks until later though, starting with ‘End of the Beginning.’ While the slow, dark, colossal riffs in the intro and the barren verses are a definite ‘War Pigs’ pastiche, god is it gnarly. Those opening guitars are arguably one of Sabbath’s most demented moments, which Ozzy backs up in a fantastic way with his vocal performance, equal parts eerie and ferocious right at the appropriate moments, like with that immense post-verse crescendo. Following that, the track goes into full, energetic jump up mode, which for a band as doomy as them, you wouldn’t think would fit them, and yet, throughout their catalogue, including here, they prove to be some of the best moments. Those galloping riffs and grooves are undeniable, you just can’t help but jump around with reckless abandon, with the drums in particular having a great showing here with some very nice ride work, all of which Ozzy compliments with his dramatic yet subtly despondent melodies. The final, power-ballad-esque section is fantastic too, a proper hands in the air, waving your lighter moment, backed by a triumphant guitar solo. Sure, the high notes may be lacking slightly, but I certainly don’t blame Ozzy for it, as the performance all round is fantastic anyway. Finally, the last new tidbit comes with the single ‘God Is Dead?’, which, with a name as comically edgy as that, I’d usually expect nothing from, but, as expected, they prove me wrong yet again. The opening with those haunting lead melodies has a really nice, eerie yet alluring quality, and when the band burst in fully with those huge power chords and rolling tom drums, it’s as if the four horsemen of the apocalypse come riding in. I should say as well, Rubin’s UBER-compressed production is a bit of a sore spot for me, but here, as with all the new tracks, it’s given a lot more room to breathe sonically which is very appreciated, as it hits with force, while not being overbearing. Ozzy’s varied, wide ranging performance is also really good here, more subdued and spine-tingling in the verses, yet bursting with emotion and passion in the chorus, which itself is one of the best on the whole album in my opinion. Then, of course, the higher energy section about two thirds of the way through is properly slamming, guaranteed to get your heart racing and your feet grooving, with a super sturdy, bouncing groove, and another quality solo from Tony. All in all, each of these new tracks slot like a glove in amongst the old stuff, offering some serious high points throughout. Granted, that is sort of what they were designed to do, but they sound brilliant regardless. It is genuinely kind of depressing, if understandable when looking at the wide pan crowd shots during these tracks and seeing thousands of people just frozen in place. These deserve a lot better.
It seems though that the crowd wasn’t actually totally unenthused, thankfully, but rather saving their energy for the older material, which is certainly understandable. After all, this is the oldest, and arguably best metal band ever, they have enough hits to fill 5 hours, let alone 1 and a half, and the ones they dust off here are some of the cream of the plentiful crop. ‘Snowblind’ from the band’s ‘Vol. 4’ LP is in tight competition with ‘Sweet Leaf’ for definitive stoner metal jam, but it might just pip it. Despite how slow and winding this track sounds, it still manages to be super catchy, with some brilliant, victorious sounding leads playing off the gnarly chugs, and a methodical, yet super steady groove, all topped with a fittingly dramatic, emotive, yet subtly spiky performance from Ozzy, giving the track the subtle pathos and very slight wry humour it utilises very well, in contrast with its widely dark presentation. For as cool as the heavier parts are, the more balladic bridge section with those forlorn arpeggios, Ozzy’s forlorn, powerful vocals, and very nice tasteful synth strings from Adam Wakeman, it shows the track is still very much on theme with the Sabbath sound, while adding some welcome breathing room. Not to mention there’s yet another ace, if brief, speed change. It’s an unbeatable track from many angles, and shows that Sabbath absolutely have range beyond doom and gloom, the track possessing an almost stoner-prog quality which is awesome. Immediately following this, we’re treated to a trio of tracks from that seminal debut album, first with the title opening track, and the band's namesake. I can’t really say much about this song that hasn’t been said a million times already, but the ominous rain and tolling bells set the tone perfectly, and when those iconic guitar tri-tones come in, it’s nothing short of the sound of pure evil in the best way, with Ozzy’s performances in the verses putting across a palpable sense of genuine, stone cold fear, the likes of which have rarely been replicated since. Although, it does bear saying that putting his microphone through what sounds like an AutoTune filter was a very odd choice, even if, again, that horror still comes through clear as day throughout, with Tommy Clofetus’ drum fills adding some really nice bits of texture and sonic interest. Overall though, this song is a masterpiece in simplicity and atmosphere, laying the groundwork for thousands to follow, and that fantastic, frantic climax is just the absolute perfect ending to such an intense experience.
The oft-forgotten ‘Behind The Wall of Sleep' follows, which, while definitely not the heaviest or most complex song in their catalogue, is one of my favourites. It has a really nice, headbanging, yet occasionally off kilter grooves, some wicked, anthemic sounding guitars, and maybe one of Ozzy’s catchiest vocals ever put to record. The real star of the show here though is the bass. It is absolutely beyond words. Geezer tone is sharp as a razor and deep as the mariana trench, grinding and bending beneath the mix in the absolute best, and gnarliest way, while somehow at the same time, coming out with an undeniable earworm at the other end as well. I’ve always said if I was to learn an instrument, it would be bass, and Geezer is a huge reason why, because seriously, that groove is not of this world. It’s easily one of the most radio-ready tracks from the early years, but sacrifices nothing in terms of quality. Speaking of bass, up next is the phenomenal 'N.I.B', which after starting with one of the most awesome, funky, filthy bass solos ever conceived by humans, transforms into a straight up anthem, with an infinitely catchy main riff, great, propulsive, yet steady drums, and a performance from Ozzy brimming with a kind of odd, dark swagger, while the more tragic post-verse section with the emotive guitars and heart bearing vocals adds a seriously cool layer of depth to the Lucefarian love affair in the lyrics, quickly followed up by yet another top-tier Iommi solo, which Geezer’s thick, rumbling bass plays off perfectly. There are certainly examples of classic seminal albums perhaps more beloved by way of their context or effect than the actual content, but these performances prove that Sabbath’s debut was just as much about brilliant songwriting as it was a sonic paradigm shift.
You may have noticed that aside from the opener, there’s been a distinct lack of material from the group’s most iconic album, ‘Paranoid’, but that all changes with ‘Fairies Wear Boots.’ It’s definitely one of their most esoteric tracks, I’ll say that, but in an amazing way. It begins with a typically grand, swaying Sabbath opening, with a great, headbanging groove, phenomenal guitar work, and some pretty damn amazing drum fills, before transitioning to the mega-catchy main core of the track, which is as heavy as it is jazzy, their stab at a swing groove going over with flying colours. As if this track wasn’t kooky enough, Ozzy’s lyrics, while being written about a skinhead gang, put across brilliantly vivid and bizarre images, with a characterful and powerful vocal to match. Of course, for all the track’s eccentricities, it obviously comes part and parcel with the same impeccable musicianship, and mean, hard-edged sonics that make the band what they are, making it both unique and recognisable for all the right reasons. The band also get some time to shine on their own at a point in the set which makes for a brilliant little interlude. The riff and groove from ‘Symptom of the Universe’ is about as fast and totally ballsy as you could’ve found in 1975, and it would’ve been great to have a full rendition, but having an instrumental as purely mean and thrashy as that one even get a cameo is a welcome surprise. What follows is a lengthy showcase of the talents of stand-in drummer Tommy Clofetus, and I mean TALENT. Of course, no-one in metal really has that pure groove, or can sit in the pocket, as well as Bill Ward can, but Tommy is a damn fine substitute, and his skillset is suitably varied. Starting off with a super cathartic, hell for leather, high octane, groovy bash around sure to have any metal drummer very impressed indeed, he travels through many more peaks and valleys. There’s some really nice, super groovy tom-tom and percussion work with an amazing rhythm, feel and flair to it, only before speeding up and bashing the living daylights out of the drums like they owe him rent, it’s incredible stuff, as are incidentally, the super acrobatic, cyclical blast beats that follow. The snare solo has a fantastic amount of momentum and dynamism, showing just how much expression can be got from one drum. He finishes it, in what way else, but with a display of such sheer speed, flair and panache that would have a litany of other drummers frankly shaking in their britches. It’s a monumental job to fill, but he does a very admirable job. He then uses the coda of his solo to effortlessly transition into the classic stomping intro of ‘Iron Man’, who’s opening droning guitars are sure to make your hairs stand on the back of your neck. It’s a brilliantly foreboding intro, which then transitions into arguably the catchiest guitar riff in all of heavy metal, with a groove mammoth enough to support it, if that’s even possible. Yet let it be known, for as lumbering and huge as the trac is, that crucial sense of rhythm, and again, groove, arguably comes through even stronger due to the slow pace. I swear headbanging to this song is an innate reflex. All the while Ozzy’s performance is appropriately imposing and sinister, forecasting humanity’s doom at the hands of a metallic, vengeful killing machine. Cool shit. Oh yeah, lest we forget, the speed changes, particularly that with the interpolation of the intro riff, is absolutely ace, only adding to the sense of impending and inevitable destruction. It’s as vivid and fantastic a character portrayal as you’re ever likely to get, at least in a musical forum, believe you me.
Naturally, they save more of the heavy hitters for the grand conclusion of the set to ensure the crowd go out on a real high, and with songs like ‘Children of the Grave’, I’d imagine that to be a forgone conclusion. The track is perhaps the first true “mosher” in their catalogue. I’m obviously not saying earlier tracks weren’t heavy, but they were more foreboding and domineering in their approach generally, whereas this track bounds along with the manic energy of a loose freight train right from the start. That classic chugging riff from Iommi is backed up by some brilliantly primal and bashing drum work in order to create the song’s relentless, rollocking vibe, while Geezer fits one of his most grinding, yet malleable and expressive basslines underneath. It’s metal perfection, sure to send even the most battle hardened of metal fans into a frenzy. Not to mention the awesome guitar solo, or the absolute mammoth bridge with that classic “stately evil” feel, with very tactful touches of organs hanging in the background. While it is true that Ozzy’s voice is pretty shot by this point, you can tell he’s still giving absolutely everything into his performance, still getting across that wary, apocalyptic tone conveyed in the track’s lyrics pretty well, all while making damn sure the crowd “GOES FUCKING CRAZY” the whole way through. One last massive blast of energy before retiring into the night, leaving the crowd feeling jubilant, but for all intents and purposes, fucking knackered… except that’s not QUITE it. How could they leave, after all, without playing THE most iconic metal song of all time, ‘Paranoid.’ Admittedly, it’s not one of my absolute favourites, perhaps due to overexposure, but it still puts a big smile on my face when I hear it. It’s almost pop punk in its presentation in a strange way. The bashing open high hat drums, the steady “chun-chun-chun” riff that manages to be incredibly catchy while only playing three or four notes, and Ozzy’s equally simplistic but super catchy melody lines. What it does mean is that it allows Geezer’s bass and lyric work to really shine, still keeping it relatively simple, but adding a due amount of melodic flair and panache, while his deceptively depressive lyrics seem almost surprising if you’re not paying attention, but it all comes together to create a real short, sharp, yet decidedly radio-ready track that distills Sabbath to their most accessible essence. It may not be their best in my opinion by quite some way, but it’s still bloody brilliant and absolutely worthy of props. With that, after a nearly 2 hour set, the Brummie legends disappear into the night, leaving the audience with the knowledge that their legend status has been properly, and continually earned.
Is this the absolute perfect Sabbath show? No, after all, the absence of Bill Ward makes that pretty much impossible by virtue, but at that point in time, it’s a damn close stab at it. It shows a band not simply content to rest on their laurels, while also being firmly aware of what the crowd came for, and doing each with flying colours, which is a damn sight more that you can say for other similar bands. It’s gigs like this that made sure Sabbath would never be cast into the void of the “legacy act”, a fate difficult to avoid for some, but I’m pretty sure every Sabbath fan on earth is glad they managed it, especially with gigs of this calibre.
Teatro Vorterix, Buenos Aires, 2016 (Public Image Ltd.)
John Lydon’s PiL is arguably the world’s most legendary post-punk outfit. 46 years, 11 albums, and a revolving cast of all-star talent, including Keith Levine, Jah Wobble, Martin Atkins, and the late John McGeough. That is until 2009, when PiL finally settled into their current, “permanent” (until recently) incarnation: John on vocals, Mekons guitarist Lu Edmonds and ex-Slits drummer Bruce Smith (whom were both involved in the ‘86 - ‘88 PiL lineup), and renowned session player Scott Firth on bass. The results these guys come out with, both in the studio, and onstage, speaks for itself. They’ve had a few really great gig recordings in this time too. The Brixton 2009 CD was a strong contender, and I was initially going to do this segment on their mammoth 2012 gig at Heaven Nightclub in London, but the recording I found got taken down. It is brilliant though, and I may well decide to buy the deluxe CD/DVD of ‘This is PiL’ for that alone. Instead though, I went with the recording from the Vorterix Theatre in Argentina in 2016, on the ‘What The World Needs Now…’ tour. Not only because, in terms of live recordings, this is maybe the most up to date, but also because it’s really fucking good.
As I’ve reiterated ad nauseum up to this point, it’s always good when live recordings really make the most of recent material, and this certainly doesn’t disappoint on that front, giving us incredible performances of over half the songs from ‘What The World…’ The one-two punch of ‘Double Trouble’ and ‘Know Now’ is just brilliant. The former is maybe the closest they’ve ever come to straight punk aside from maybe early tracks like ‘Attack’, but it does so with a very loveable sense of fun and humour. Lu’s guitar parts are absolutely searing and sharp as a blade, having a serious bite and edge to them while also being incredibly catchy. Bruce and Scott, being the masters of rhythm that they are, deliver a very nice, super high energy, motoring beat, with all the energy of a marathon runner, and the force of a lead anvil. It’s almost late era Fall-esque, which is a serious compliment. Then, once the chorus hits, Bruce goes to work on the cymbals, while Lu’s guitars take on a bright, anthemic glean, making for an amazing push and pull, with so much great texture. Not to mention, there’s an incredible solo too. Somehow dark and menacing, yet deliberately unserious. This could mainly be put down to John, who not only has an unparalleled vocal presence with metric tons of personality and showmanship, working well in his favour, but also, the lyrics about a domestic dispute over plumbing might be the last thing you’d expect him to sing about, and yet it’s absolutely awesome, again aided no end by its seemingly self aware goofiness. ‘Know Now’ is slightly different. John still has a great performance, but it seems much more about the rapid fire, feisty delivery of the lyrics than it does the lyrics themselves, which are mainly just a series of phonetic word salads. It works a treat all the same. The highlight here really is the band. It has a lot of similar brushstrokes: the pumping, punchy, danceable beats, razor tooth guitars and transcendent lead parts, but seems to be handled with a much more palpable dance music influence. This comes through not only in how truly irresistible the groove is, but also the number of quirky synth flourishes throughout, including a fantastic, and genuinely tense and dramatic organ parts on some of the chorus, giving the track some next level flair. It’s a travesty this addition isn’t nearly as prominent on the LP, but the fact it’s here in any capacity makes me very happy.
As the gig progresses we’re treated to airings of even more amazing new tracks like ‘Corporate’ and ‘I’m Not Satisfied.’ ‘Corporate’ just sounds straight up evil in the best way. For as much as the “nick a wallet” refrain might even come across slightly camp, they still manage to carry it off with a serious degree of ominousness and imposing doom. That goes for everything around it too. The way the groove slowly lumbers and lurches along is super gnarly and cool, with maybe one of Scott’s simplest, yet most effective basslines ever. Meanwhile, Lu’s increasing dramatic and intense guitar squawking conjours up sounds you might only otherwise hear in an industrial torture chamber. It’s absolutely monstrous, and leaves no doubt in my mind that PiL scoring a horror movie would be next level awesome. Atop all of this though, John’s lyrics are a breath of fresh air, calling for the ultimate unity of humanity, and yet fit seamlessly with his effortless channelling of an almost Machiavellian, seriously grizzly and villainous, bile filled character. Icing on the cake puts it lightly. ‘I’m Not Satisfied’ takes yet another stylistic turn, going almost full disco, with an awesome groove taking centre stage. Bruce’s strutting, almost diva-like drum beat is absolutely brilliant, and made even greater by some really cool electronic percussion textures. Think sort of like demented Bee Gees almost. That bassline from Scott too… jeez man, save some funk for the rest of us, enough said. If this groove doesn’t have you getting up and busting out a ‘Saturday Night Fever’ in your living room, you have no soul. To balance out the sonic palette though, John and Lu bring the edge. Both John’s lyrics and vocals are thrawt with clear desperation and deep emotion, giving the track a seriously dark, tense undercurrent which is so effective. To add to this, again, Lu brings his trademark metallic guitar work, which has proven to consistently work wonders. It’s another great example, as well, where despite how abrasive and industrial the tone of his guitar is, the melodies that come out of it manage to be often as catchy as they are totally otherworldly. This combination might seem a bit of a hodge podge, but it works a miracle within the PiL paradigm. I’m not sure many other bands could write this song, but boy am I glad they did. Arguably even stranger is the single, ‘The One’, John’s ode to T-Rex and Marc Bolan. The first fair few times I heard this, I really didn’t get it. In fact, I didn’t like it at all. The swaying, plodding drum beat, relatively light, almost power-ballad like guitars, and John’s attempt at half-way, almost cartoony crooning seriously put me off. Yet, somehow, miraculously, it eventually won me over. The guitars were already pretty catchy as I mentioned, but became so much more enjoyable when I just left my preconceptions at the door, and just how anthemic it was really grew on me. Additionally, while John’s vocals and the backing “ooo” harmonies are an acquired taste, and probably still kinda cheesy, even I have to admit there’s something seriously loveable and charming about it, that I came to appreciate more with every listen.
'Know Now'
Naturally though, this gig isn’t just about the new album, and one of the many things I respect about PiL is that, while relentlessly pushing forward and trying new things, they also make a point of reminding you just how good their whole back catalogue is, particularly in its new look, beefed up form. This is evident right from the opening number, ‘Albatross’, from the incendiary ‘Metal Box’ album. What John and Co. do with it is they take a track that, on record, was delightfully, cold, eerie and cavernous, but flip it on its head. The creep factor is still there in force, with Scott’s menacing bass playing and Lu’s uncanny guitar atmospheres, as well as John’s darkly stern vocals, but the difference is in how that creepiness is presented. To run with the horror metaphor, the original had a kind of spine-chilling, creepy, gangly, ‘Rake Creepypasta’ sort of vibe. This however, with its massive, deep groove, and blaring , cacophonous guitar textures, along with John’s booming, monstrous delivery, instead gives the image of a great, murderous, lumbering beast, sparking deep existential terror in the townspeople. I maybe got a bit carried away there but hopefully you get the point. ‘Death Disco’ also carries some serious existential terror, but in a whole other, deeply tragic way. The title gives you a pretty good idea of where the track goes stylistically, and the brilliant thing about it is just how well it uses cognitive dissonance. Being a track about John’s mother’s slow, cancerous death, it’s obviously full to the brim with heart wrenching emotion and sadness. Meanwhile though, the base that underpins it is undeniably groovy. Bruce’s simple hi-hat beat has a brilliant sense of momentum and funk, added to ten fold by Scott’s incredible bass playing and super awesome, lurching synth textures. Dancing to a track like this seems so wrong in principle, and yet that’s exactly what they want you to do. Very cleverly though, the backbeat being as lively as it is lets John and Lu balance it out with brutal honesty and an almost epic sense of despair, to use an unintentionally tone deaf descriptor. What I mean is, Bruce and Scott provide the funk, but the purely evil, dissonant, apocalyptic guitar lines that Lu puts atop it are some of the darkest, most intense and emotionally overwhelming I’ve ever heard, and the interpolation of Swan Lake, originally masterminded by Keith Levene, is pure genius. Talking of emotionally overwhelming, John’s vocals take that to a whole other level. Aside from the 2023 track ‘Hawaii’, dedicated to his late wife Nora, this is maybe the most emotionally bare we’ve ever seen John. His lyrics lay out the pure tragedy and dejection of the whole ordeal with uncomfortable, almost graphic realism at points, and the way he howls, shrieks, and shakily bellows them out overtop of the musical chaos beneath is utterly indescribable. He’s said he often breaks down in tears during this song, and it seriously sounds like it here. It takes a very special calibre of artist to do something like this at all, let alone make it sound this good.
'Death Disco'
One era of the band’s career maybe less abundantly discussed by fans is the material the band released in the mid to late 80s and early 90s, which is a shame, because there are some absolute tunes all through that period. While, sadly, nothing from 1992’s ‘That What Is Not’ receives an airing, they do treat us to a few of the other hits from this time, which are hits for a reason, believe me. First up, early on in the set, the “new look” ‘(This Is Not A) Love Song’ gets a great crowd reaction. Starting off with Lu Edmond’s fantastic saz line, the track quickly descends into riotous, jump up, new wave fun, fit with bright bursts of synthesizers and an absolute killer disco beat, sure to move even the stiffest of spoilsports. On top of that, while it may be one of John’s more lyrically scant outings, he still carries it off with enough punkified panache and showmanship to make prime Travolta jealous. All the while, Lu’s otherworldly soundscapes shine and swell above the thumping beats, giving what could have sounded like a pretty regulated, if great dance tune, that little bit of freewheeling magic, especially with how he expertly manipulates the sound to create the most wonderful, eastern soundscapes. It’s a real treat every time I hear it, and I’m more than happy it’s a mainstay in their sets. Later on, we get ‘The Body’, arguably the biggest outlier in the whole set, but at least for me, is thoroughly enjoyable. It starts off in the vein of an early 80s electro cut, Bruce’s punchy, hip-hop style drums augmented by additional electronic claps and maracas, before being joined by some loveably cheesy sci-fi synth leads. At such a point, I wouldn’t question you for furrowing your brow and asking “where the hell is this going?” That said, once the truly epic, hard rock style guitars and Scott’s ace, funky bass enter the picture, it all makes sense. Think a typically huge piece of 80s stadium rock with the extra “spikiness” you’d come to expect from PiL, and it makes for a really great combination when done right, proving they can write “normal” songs just as good, if not better, than many of the bands out at that time. Even John’s vocals are a little bit more ferocious here, the slightly more gravely and gritty, yet still flamboyant delivery working wonders on such a musical backdrop, which makes sense I suppose for a song about abortion. The group chanted chorus also works very well too. It is worth saying that when I saw PiL live in 2023, they did play this song, but I noted it as being one of a few moments where maybe that sense of “fire” they carry off so well felt slightly diminished. Here though, props need to be given to the sound engineer, who’s endlessly bassy, deep and colourful mix really gives this track the presentation it needs to flourish. Not only do the grooves rock you to your core, but John’s vocals cut through like a butcher’s knife, and Lu’s guitar work, particularly his solo work, is frankly transcendent. Put simply, it’s an absolute corker.
Straight after, ‘Warrior’ comes along, where the band made the decision to ditch the MIDI-heavy LP arrangement, in favour of a revamped dance remix, a choice which does them no end of favours. Layers of slowly rising, cinematic synth pads give way to an utterly irresistible synth hook, atop which Lu lathers his usual helping of kaleidoscopic, soundscaped craziness, and John hollers with the gravitas of a militant revolutionary. All the while, yet AGAIN, Scott and Bruce offer an infinitely groovy base, without which, the track would frankly crumble to pieces, giving it that vital driving force and momentum, while the plentiful helping of techno-esque funk tempts you to spontaneously start grooving like no-one’s business in the middle of your living room. Hell, I’m writing this in a library and I nearly did. Its danceability combined with the sheer sense of drama, bought not only by Lu, but also John’s defiant performance and lyrics make it such a treat for the ears, and a hundred times superior to the original. Funnily enough, the sole track from 2012’s ‘This is PiL’ album, ‘Deeper Water’, does draw from a similar sort of new-wave-ified palette as their actual stuff from the 80s does, but does it with an extra sense of pervading darkness and sinister vibes. The reformed PiL lineup, as I’ve divulged billions of times already by this point, really know their way around a groove, but in particular, how to take a completely unrelenting rhythmic base, and turn the potential vibe completely on its head. Scott’s bass line might initially suggest a kind of driving reggae or peppy funk song, but then Bruce joins in with a lively open hi-hat beat comparable to that of late era Fall. Combine this with the bright bleeps of synthesizers that peer through the mix, and it’s maybe not a million miles from D-Train in a way. Once Lu and John enter the picture though, the dynamic completely shifts. Lu’s guitar leads are either brightly shrieking and resonating like a serial killers metallic torture machine, or in the case of the chorus, has a seriously potent, kind of searing emotion to it, almost as if he’s making the guitar sob in grief. It’s genuinely powerful. John only adds to this characterisation, his powerful, yet somehow simultaneously frightened vocal delivery and fearless, defiant lyrics give the impression of a ship captain painfully aware, yet welcoming of imminent danger, with a sorrowful backing vocal as the perfect addition. It’s a seriously cool zone the band manages to tap into, and while it is a shame this is the only track from ‘This is PiL’ here, I’m really glad they chose it in particular.
'Warrior'
Towards the end of the set, though they’ve already played an absolute blinder until now, they really saved some of their biggest and best for last, the near 20-minute version of ‘Religion’ giving particular emphasis to the word “biggest.” All the way back upon its release in 1978, critics were saying “don’t listen to this song in the dark”, and it seems to only become more true over time. The song already has a deeply dark and disturbing presentation, and so extending that sensation out for as long as they do almost gives it the air of a kind of militant death march. The sinister, offbeat groove never falters once, Lu’s chugging guitar work is effortlessly creepy, sharp and biting, and John’s delivery, I’m sure intentionally, is delivered with a serious gravitas, as if delivering his own vehement anti-sermon onto the audience from his metaphorical pulpit, the lyrics lambasting exploitation of the Catholic faith hitting as hard today as it ever has. Then, when the chorus kicks in, the sheer force, drama, terror and power it puts across is frankly staggering. As the band continually vamps on, and John spouts his sharp-witted vitriol, the song itself takes on a genuinely monstrous presentation, like a hideous creature lurking and stomping through the late night streets for its terrified prey. It’s maybe one of only two songs from PiL along with Death Disco I would call actually scary, John’s guttural growling and evil dictations, along with the sharp, razorlike guitars and belligerent groove, going no end to make it such. Not to mention, Scott Firth provides enough bass to melt the flesh off someone’s face in seconds. Intense doesn’t go a tenth far enough to describe it. After that, I’d say a pick me up is in order, and it arrives not one song later, with the band’s iconic hit, ‘Rise.’ That brilliant South African inspired drum fill acts as a fantastic starting point, upon which Lu layers some glorious, sparkling and victorious guitar leads, and Scott underscores the whole thing with a fantastic, almost jolly bassline. The whole thing sounds like you’re gazing at a view of the vast expanse, having just trekked up a treacherous mountain, that sense of joy and wonder coming across no end, with the earworm, mantra like chorus giving it an endearing communal dimension. While John’s lyrics concerning apartheid torture aren’t exactly bubbly, he delivers them with his ever-present confidence and self assuredness, almost giving the impression of rebellious and righteous defiance which works very well. Then, in the second half, as Lu’s guitars take on a notably more dramatic and intense tone, John and the crowd launch into defiant chants of “anger is an energy!”, while the instrumentation beneath builds to an epic peak. It’s the perfect encapsulation of everything great about a PiL show. Not only fantastic music, but defiance, confidence and community.
Following this arguably perfect conclusion, the band exit the stage, but as it turns out, they still have a few tricks left up their sleeves, with a brilliant three song encore. To my mind, no Public Image show is properly complete without their debut single and namesake tune. Written as John’s effort to unshackle himself from the infamy of his past sounds as liberating as ever, fit with some utterly fantastic, endlessly infectious guitar work, a brilliant driving groove, and an iconic, cyclical, reggae style bassline to match, it’s bright, freewheeling sound is completely undeniable, as the two word chorus echoes across the crowd in recognition of John’s achievement. If John’s follow up to the Pistols flopped, who knows what would have happened. Luckily for us, with a song as definitive and awesome as this, it’s no surprise a career as great as his took shape as a result. Short, sharp, and superb. Then, as a final cherry on the cake, the double-bill of ‘Open Up’ and ‘Shoom.’ Both dance tracks at their core, the former is the band’s own rendition of Lydon’s wicked 1993 collab with progressive house giants Leftfield, and they really take it to the next level. Of course, John’s vocals are as unhinged and animated as ever, and the relentless powerful beats are intact thanks to Bruce, but the band also add their own je nais se quois to proceedings. Not only are the ghostly keys in the intro a really cool, cinematic addition, but the pulsating synth bass has a futuristic, yet foreboding vibe which compliments it perfectly. Best of all though, using Lu’s epic, cinematic and fiery guitar work to mimic the comparatively generic synths from the original takes the PiL version into a whole other dimension. Don’t get me wrong, the original version is great, but an epic, psychedelic, hard dance-rock version? How the hell can I say no? Then ‘Shoom’ as an ending is just perfect. It’s already great on the record, with the dark, grimy dance beats and glimmers of eerie atmospheres working as the perfect vessel for John’s hilarious, foul mouthed lyrics, but, like with ‘Open Up’ getting Lu to add some additional blaring guitar work over top for the live version was a stroke of genius. It takes an already great track and gives it a wonderfully heroic and climactic edge, making it the perfect closer.
I’ve now written over 3500 words about this gig, so I’ll keep this short, but I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you that this gig is absolutely ace. It’s no secret that PiL had trouble in the past maintaining a steady lineup, but given the frankly god-tier quality of the performances from every member at all times throughout this nearly two hour gig, it’s no wonder this lineup was by far the longest lasting. It’s just totally rock solid and fucking awesome, end of story. Sadly, drummer Bruce Smith departed for personal reasons recently (amicably, thankfully), but his replacement is apparently fantastic, and who would I be to doubt them. That said, this gig then, may well go down as the definitive document of arguably the best PiL lineup of all time.
Long Time Coming - Replugged, Vienna, 2018 (Renaldo and the Loaf)
Renaldo and the Loaf, along with The Residents, are one of my absolute favourite experimental groups. Their relentlessly entertaining tape-loop tomfoolery was something that greatly intrigued and appealed to me. It managed to be exceedingly experimental, yet somehow charming, humorous, and incredibly catchy simultaneously, an art that I don’t think even The Residents were as good at, and shows to great effect on albums like the classic ‘Songs For Swinging Larvae.’ I’ve also raved previously about their fantastic reunion album ‘Gurdy Hurding.’ Plus, when I saw the feature length documentary ‘23rd Century Giants, it endeared them to me even more. Yet, throughout their long and storied careers, they never performed live, stating “it’s not something we do”, despite numerous high profile offers. That all changed though in 2018 when, as a favour to Klanggalerie label head Walter Robotka, the duo arrived at the Klang 25 event in Austria, for their one, and likely only performance. Luckily for us, the whole thing was recorded, so we can all relive this historic moment whenever we want. Hooray.
Part of what made the show so special, as a close friend put it, was that this wasn’t a “plush Vienna piano recital.” Instead, Brian and Dave marched onto a small stage, armed with nothing but a laptop, a MIDI flute, projector and microphone, in front of an incredibly intimate, 250-strong crowd. I think one thing that’s really cool about the recording is that you can almost feel that intimacy and closeness through the recording, which is a brilliant feeling. This, if anything, is bolstered even more when the glorious string drones of opening track ‘B.P.M’ enter the picture. Wonderfully, Renaldo and the Loaf, much like the Residents still do now, sought to mess around a bit with their live set. Rather than just play LP recordings off a computer, all of the older tracks receive brand new sprucings up, and ‘B.P.M’ is a perfect example. What was once a frantic, fast paced, and kind of terrifying guitar and vocal duet, is now fit with sunny, sweeping strings, thumping drums, fantastic bleepy, chip tuned synthesisers and ethereal textures. It’s an undeniable earworm. Moreover, Brian’s chants of “bet you didn’t know today, was a long time coming” makes this a fantastic choice for the opening track, and the somewhat demented circus funhouse melodies at the close of the track are brilliant too. Another reduxed track follows with ‘Lonely Rosa’ from ‘Arabic Yodelling.’ The almost hip-hop sounding metallic percussion and bass melds great with the bonkers synth horns that enter the picture soon after, and Brian’s channeling of the Mad Hatter, or a similarly eccentric aristocratic type on the vocal track makes for a very memorable performance indeed, just as the vocal manipulations at the core of the track are genuinely slightly unnerving. That said, I’ve very rarely danced to Renaldo and the Loaf out and out, but this is absolutely one of the exceptions, and in fact this whole set does a great job to dismantle that idea, not to mention that the distorted sample sound play on the outro is a brilliant little cherry on the cake.
This set is so chock full of revamped highlights that I could go on for hours, and no doubt I nearly will. The couple of other ‘Arabic Yodelling’ cuts for one are amazing. ‘Green Candle’ for instance, starts out with layers of eerie, horror-inspired atmospheres, before transitioning into an out and out synth backed romped, with a strutting drum beat, and maybe some of the catchiest melodies the duo ever wrote. Add to that the level of whimsy brought by Brian’s top-notch vocals and the skittery electronics in the verse, along with a straight up sick synth solo, and it almost feels like a children’s fairytale gone off its tits, and I mean that in the best way possible. Talk about whimsy, ‘Bearded Cats’ has it in spades. The jaunty synth motifs and bright guitars that soundtrack it, along with the light, almost jazzy beat, carries an almost quirky, Bonzo Doo-Dah type energy, or perhaps a nobility dinner hijacked by oddballs, either way it’s a fantastic piece of fun, with a huge sense of playfulness coming through in the vocals and violins too. The other tracks from ‘Larvae’ are similarly enjoyable too. ‘Ow! Stew the Red Shoe’ sports a beat with an incredibly infectious groove that at once sounds tribal, yet with the charm and naïveté of a rinky-dink marching band. The touches of bagpipes and subtly dystopian synth textures are incredible additions too, adding more to that childlike sense of care-freeness and brightness. Brian’s clearly also having great fun with this one too. Beginning with a jovial nonsense chant, his delivery has an almost constantly jolly demeanour, aside from the occasional moments of obliquity, and it’s a joy to witness the whole time.
The highlight hit from the set though has to be the medley of ‘Spratts Medium’ and ‘Medical Man.’ Both made famous by the highly disturbing Grahame Whiffler directed video, these tracks go down an absolute storm. While the new ‘Spratts Medium’ props up its wonderfully ominous synth textures with a bouncy electronic beat and a great, animated performance from Brian, that sounds at once wise and slightly petrified. Then, after a thoroughly entertaining b-section with some very well implemented vocal glitches, and a cacophony of wailing folk instrumentation that sounds frankly domineering and immense, ‘Medical Man’ begins. It’s a genuine feat of songwriting in my mind that despite its unstable, skittery beat and absolutely insane “lead melody”, it still manages to be endlessly catchy, as you hear yourself half-wrapping along to Brian’s flurried, manic declarations. Then, after another tangibly uneasy and surreal wave of manipulated string sections, the main chorus hits for the first time, and its mantra-like simplicity and simplistic presentation does it serious favours along with other scraps of melodic detritus swirling around it. The audience reaction that follows its conclusion is surely an indication of their achievement. They’ve managed, as they have with all of their old tracks, to take some of their best loved work, give it a total sonic overhaul, yet still maintain all their best qualities. Good job, lads.
Renaldo and the Loaf fanboys all over the world can rejoice though, as this is far from just a greatest hits show, as the duo also dig up a few serious rare gems, harkening all the way back to their self-released ‘Struve and Sneff’ cassette. ‘Scottish Shuffle’ for one is an absolute joy. A super simplistic, yet very catchy guitar line lies atop a cool shuffling drumbeat, with an almost casual, care-free performance from Brian, that is until they’re interrupted by bursts of endearingly wonky orchestral instruments. Equally, the short interlude in between where the guitar collides with the slightly farty brass sounds, which is later added to by Brian’s eccentric character portrayal in the vocals is also very fun, and again, the word whimsical is definitely a recurring theme, added to by the fact that the outro rings of a sort of chopped and screwed kids TV theme tune. ‘Absence’ follows immediately after, whose dark and desolate intro is handily the spookiest moment of the whole set. Once the sounds of church bells and Brian’s demented storyteller vocals enter the picture, the spookiness certainly persists, and as cartoony as Dave’s additions of ghostly keyboards, steel drums and soured saxophones might seem, if anything, it kind of adds to the uncanny creep factor. Like yeah, it’s maybe not spine chilling, but it’s most certainly off putting, in a sort of psychedelic creepy pasta kinda way. Then, later, we’re treated to the short but sweet ‘16 Going On 17.’ It definitely has many of the classic RatL hallmarks. The off-kilter plucked guitars backed by a skittery clap beat are again an unlikely catchy combo, and as much as the plodding brass section is kind of ridiculous it’s an endearing, funny kind of ridiculous. If anything, as the track wears on with the various plinky plonky guitar lines (though backed by a pretty rad bassline), Brian’s utterly silly singing voice, and even a kazoo solo, this track more than any other illustrates the guys not really taking themselves too seriously. They're not coming at experimental music from a dead serious perspective, but rather one of “hey, that sounds quirky, let’s have fun with that, and that they do.
One track that absolutely exemplifies the duo’s sense of fun, is the closer, and sole track from pre-breakup album ‘The Elbow Is Taboo’: ‘Hambu Hodo.’ The remix treatment again works wonders here, as the track’s original distinctive bassline is joined by a dare I say techno style, almost four-on-the floor beat, and the vocoder backing vocals, playful kazoo part, and especially the final sparkling synths and chirping MIDI brass, work absolute wonders, giving the whole set a full on joyous, dance along ending. Along with that, Brian’s percussive scatting and gibberish melodies are all incredibly catchy, charming, eccentric, and absurd in equal measure, everything that Renaldo and the Loaf have always been about. Frankly, I couldn’t think of a better ending. It feels like a genuine revelling of their success, with a real sense of joyous, “wow, look at us” type energy pervading the whole tune. What’s also a huge treat, is the premiere of a brand new, and for now exclusive track, ‘Corset Vendor.’ Well, not quite an old track, but as Brian explains in an inter-song introduction left off the official recording, “it’s a new song, but really an old song we found at the back of a lingerie cupboard.” Fair enough. What I will say is that it’s absolutely a song of two halves. Most of it comprises these eerily drooping glockenspiel melodies and glacial synths, along with Brian’s purposefully creepy, creaky, yet still melodic and airy vocal, which he packages with some very compelling lyrics. Much like ‘Absence’, it works very well in that “horror” type lane, but occasionally the track will be disrupted by either a gleefully dissonant flute passage courtesy of Dave, or what sounds like a piece of novelty, honky-tonk ragtime music. In any case, it does a brilliant job to add some colour to a track which, even without that, is a thoroughly intriguing and worthy addition to the RatL cannon.
Naturally though, with it being 2018, a few key tracks from ‘Gurdy Hurding’ get a well deserved airing as well, and they’re just as brilliant as you’d want them to be. Now, these tracks don’t quite have the same sonic sprucing up as a lot of the others, given that they were only released two years prior, but the subtle differences there are make a big impact. ‘Scent of Turnip’ has a fantastic shuffling hip-hop style beat at its core, with lots of quirky overlapping layers of mad choppy guitars that are yet again another secret “dance weapon". Brian also delivers a great performance here. Not only is his verse performance as versatile and eccentric as ever, with that great sense of intrigue, but the chorus is an absolute belter. While Dave admittedly doesn’t add much melodically, the brand new synth solo he plays over the outro is very cool. Album opening track ‘Henri Rise’ comes later, and while, again, there’s not much new to speak of melodically, it’s a brilliant song all the same. Dave lays a great foundation with these super beefy glitchy drum beats, which he adds to with a variety of glitchy percussive textures, psychedelic vocal chops, synth atmospheres, and of course, that brilliant main horn melody. I’m telling you these guys know how to write a song. Brian is once again in whimsical storytelling mode here, delivering what can only be described as a Dadaist kids poem about the mundane life of a lonely farmer. I know, it sounds dull, but if there’s one thing you can rely on Brian for, it’s to carry it off with flair and panache. For me though, the absolute highlight of the whole set is ‘Gladsome Vane.’ While lighter in tone than tracks like ‘Absence’, it still carries distinctively ominous overtones. The synth melody at the core of the track is at once colourful, futuristic and subtly foreboding, with its energy and mood slowly evolving as the track goes on. Add to that the alluring female vocal snippet and an almost breakbeat type groove, it’s almost like the guys are attempting a kind of sci-if folk tune, what with the brilliant creepy string and brass melodies that pop in at crucial junctures, and which in a live setting, Dave supplements incredibly well with a counter-melody on the electric oboe. It’s a subtle change, but the difference is incredible. It has to be said that Brian brings his a-game here as well. The subtly shaky tone in his voice, along with the somewhat cultish, ritualistic lyrics create a real sense of unease, adding to the whole ominous vibe. Yet, with the numerous vocal hooks throughout, will have you humming along long after its conclusion, I’ll tell you from experience.
I have to say that in one way, I’m so happy this was a one off event, in the sense that it carries an implicit sense of occasion and intangible excitable energy, which I think really comes across. Dave and Brian both did a great job, not only in terms of giving older tracks a bold and contemporary new angle which sounds great, but also giving performances that live up to the very high calibre of the original. So on that score, well done. On the other though, after hearing this, I’m absolutely desperate to see them live, which I know will almost never happen. I know what you’ll say, “at least there’s this”, and yes, you’re right. Let me tell you though, the amount of money I’d offer for the privilege would make anyone's eyes water.
So, after many delays, around 24,000 words, and nearly a year in incubation, I’ve finally managed to rant and rave about all of my absolute favourite live albums and DVDs, from some of my favourite artists, due serious consideration the next time you’re stuck indoors and want a bit of excitement in your life. Sure, it’s not ever going to replace actually going to a live gig, feeling the energy and the sweat in the air. Then again, when else will you get the true freedom to go mental to some absolutely awesome music, jumping and gyrating around your living room, in your underpants, while getting shitfaced and gorging yourself on snack food? Well, that’s what live albums are for. And hey, if your neighbours come round in a state of confusion, feel free to explain, and either let them in on a night of endless fun, or, in the case of particularly grouchy neighbours, politely tell them to fuck off. Now, if you’ll excuse me, there’s a Hi-Fi sound system and a family pack of chocolate biscuits with my name on them.
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