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I thought I’d been to plenty of ‘proper’ rock gigs – then I went to see Frank Carter and the Sex Pistols
Never Mind The Manc, here's the Sex Pistols
Listen, we here at The Manc and Audio North have been to a fair few gigs in our day, and heavy ones at that – we’re fortunate to have a fair few happy headbangers in our office – but we’re not sure many things encapsulate a proper rock show like seeing Frank Carter and the actual Sex Pistols.
You know, as you do…
When we first heard that the legendary punk band were not only back on tour over 16 years after their last handful of festival sets (and nearly in their 70s, by the way) but bringing the ex-Gallows and current Rattlesnakes frontman along for the ride, it felt like we’d be asked one of those dream lineup questions.
As the literal godfathers of the genre and entire movement that changed the face of music here in the UK and all over the world, there are very few people who could even attempt to fill the shoes of Johnny Rotten, but at times it genuinely felt like there’d never been anyone else other than Frank f***ing Carter.
Limited-run shows like these are obviously always going to be special and watching the last remaining Sex Pistols members play their iconic Never Mind The Bollocks album in full to what we can only describe as one of the most mixed crowds you’ll ever come across.
Now, we’re fully aware that the Pistols pre-date us by some way and, of course, there were A LOT of dads and old punk-rockers with multi-coloured mohawks to be seen, but much like we’re hoping with those upcoming Oasis reunion gigs, there were a lot of young fans filling out the front rows.
But no matter what age group they belonged to, the Manchester crowd did us proud as it always does and even at some of the rowdiest metal gigs we’ve been to in the past, we have never seen so much crowd-surfing, circle pits and all-round chaos.
It was nothing short of utterly delightful and, we have to say, a lot of the thanks has to go ‘Franky Boy’, as he was affectionately referred to throughout the show.
Once again, I don’t think we can overstate how hard it is to follow in the footsteps of arguably one of the greatest albeit controversial frontmen of all time, but somehow the 40-year-old made it look effortless.
Actually, that’s a lie: if you’ve ever seen Frank Carter live you’ll know how much energy goes into those sets and we think of ‘blood, sweat and tears’ performances, he’s pretty much the epitome of it.
Nevertheless, what we’re trying to say is that these now-legendary one-offs/revival/comeback shows, whatever you want to call them, simply couldn’t have happened without him – certainly not at this level, anyway. In fact, we’d go so far as to say he was born to play this role.
You could tell the boys know it too; not only have they put their faith in him but you can tell they’ve already struck a lifelong friendship, as they beckoned their lead singer back from the mosh multiple times by simply saying, “Frankie baby, we miss you.”
The man himself has made no secret of how much of a dream come true being chosen for this tour. He recently wrote to his followers: “In case anyone was wondering what it’s like to share the stage with these three legends… Pure joy.”
He went on to add, “It’s not lost on me how lucky I am to be up here and I cherish every moment of it… Every single show feels special and I am having the time of my f***ing life” – and so were we. Frank actually spent what felt like half of the gig in the crowd and you just don’t get over moments like that.
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It has to be said too that Paul Cook, Steve Jones and Glen Matlock don’t seem like they’ve missed one single beat even after all this time.
In terms of the tunes that went the hardest, we’re still not over the pure surrealness of hearing those opening notes of ‘Holidays in the Sun’, ‘No Feelings’ and ‘God Save the Queen’ were obvious favourites but it will surprise absolutely no one to hear that ‘Anarchy in the UK’ was the perfect closer.
We limped out of Manchester Academy with a couple of bruises to show for it and probably smelling like a bin fire, but if you’re asking us whether nearly losing a tooth whilst hugging a dozen random blokes in leather and/or denim was worth it, yes, it absolutely was.
In fact, rather than pretend this is much of an actual muso review (that doesn’t feel very Sex Pistols or particularly punk) we’ll go one further and declare that as possibly the most raucous gig we’ve ever been to – and it’s all Frank Carter’s wonderful f***ing fault.
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Featured Images — The Manc Group/Audio North