I guess you could say I'm an executive Punk fan. In the same way that Eddie Izzard describes himself an executive transvestite. Or maybe nothing like that at all.
What I mean is that I like punk royalty. I've seen the Sex Pistols, Clash, and the Stranglers, even Rezillos (or Revillos, as they were by the time I saw them). And I've seen Pseudo Punks, like Green Day.
Last night was the first time I'd seen a genuine, still working class grunt band, and after nearly thirty years of touring.
Lets not pretend they were anything more than that. There was no new direction, no discovery of transcendental meditation. Not even any fresh drugs to spark a new line of inspiration.
With most of their original line-up, they played the same old stuff, in the comparatively up-market surroundings (for them, or any non-royal punk outfit) of The Independent.
It reminds me of that wonderful line from British comedian Peter Kay, who tells his kids to "go on, put on something your mother likes. Stick that Smack My Bitch Up on, watch her dance".
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