Stiff Little Fingers + Ricky Warwick & The Fighting Hearts @ The Robin 2, Bilston, 1st March 2016
Like a cosy armchair or a well worn in leather jacket, or like a couple that knows each other so well that words don’t need to be said, these things are not dull or past it. These things are contentment. Familiar. Comforting. That is the relationship that Stiff Little Fingers now have with their fans. We, the couple; the band and the audience, can relax in each others company after so long without the need to ‘try hard’ to impress each other. We just know that we are right together and that we’ll spend the rest of our days together. Through thick and thin they are there for us and we for them and here we are once again.
But first let us get the negative part of this review out of the way by talking about the support. Well, when I say negative you have to realise that it’s all relative to the rest of the evening and if this is as negative as it gets then the Gods of Rock’n’Roll have shone on Bilston tonight. – possibly the best support act that Stiff Little Fingers have chosen in along time. I’m sorry to say that I only caught half of the support slot. Not something I would normally listen to but judging by the response at the end of the set I was not alone in my feelings. With hints of Punk R’n’R in the style of an Irish tinged Socal Distortion, some rock postures without the cheese and tunes a plenty, Ricky Warwick, a rock warrior with fine pedigree (NMA, The Almighty, Thin Lizzy and now with Black Star Riders) led his men through a fine warm up set.
Stiff Little Fingers with all their songs of the Northern Ireland troubles, lives lost and stolen by paramilitary gangs, of depression and of child abuse should on paper make you want curl up and cry. Yet the ying to that yang is that their songs are filled with an angry optimism, sometimes unspoken, that tells us that what we know and feel inside us is right and that we sing from the same page as the band.
From the opening anger of ‘Wasted Life’ to the positivity of the chorus in the encore of ‘Alterative Ulster’ we are treated to uplifting song after song. ‘Barbed Wire Love’ with it’s doo-wop middle eight is a mainstay and favourite. ‘Doesn’t Make It Alright’ is dedicated to their friend and Specials drummer, the late, great John Bradbury. Fast becoming another crowd fave is the now constant presence of ‘Strummerville’ with it’s chant-along refrain of “Clash Clash, Clash City Rockers”. ‘At The Edge’ was the soundtrack of angst ridden youth for many of the people there tonight and another ever present that did not disappoint or feel any lesser for the number of times we have heard it.
The guitar of Jake Burns is a tuneful joy to listen to. Staccato, melodic and angry when needed whilst the quiet men of the band McCallum and Grantley hold it all together. SLF are a band whose rhythm section doesn’t include the bass for me as Ali McMordie pushes the band along, a driving force rather than the rock steady foundations.
Having seen Stiff Little Fingers around the forty times mark since the reformation in 87 I can say that I have never heard them sound so crisp and unhindered by a lack of sound problems. No leakage, no unwanted distortion, nothing! Testament to PA at the Robin or to the sound engineer. Who knows, but sure as Punks are Rockers ’til they die it made the gig almost perfect. I say almost because one crowd fave that is never played enough, ‘Johnny Was’ … well… unfortunately it wasn’t.
Never mind the fact that all of us have songs that we would like to have heard from their extensive back catalogue… we can accept it. We, the crowd of full-time and weekend Punks, smattering of skinheads and bikers leave the near full venue happy, content and comfortable with a relationship with the one that rarely lets us down.
Review: Mark Veitch
Photographs: Chris Bowley