You can trust Louder Our experienced team has worked for some of the biggest brands in music. From testing headphones to reviewing albums, our experts aim to create reviews you can trust. Find out more about how we review.
If anything has ever highlighted the evolution of punk rock more keenly than the comparison between Download’s Friday main stage headliners and this evening’s Opus Stage closers, then it certainly doesn’t come to mind easily.
Last night, Green Day put on a set of slick, cuddly, melodious pop-punk bangers surrounded by all the bloated trappings of stadium rock. It was far more Kiss or Motley Crue than anything that came from punk in Washington in 1982, New York in 1976 or London in ‘77. Now, the godfathers of that last scene and the band who first brought the genre to prominence aim to remind Download just what classic punk rock is all about.
The Sex Pistols are here, sans Johnny Rotten and instead fronted by the Frank Carter. Mr. Lydon has been characteristically critical of his former bandmates heading out to tour to perform, as he puts it, “his fucking words”, comparing the entire endeavour as nothing more than karaoke. And as the Pistols amble on and kick into a rather lacklustre Holidays In The Sun, it’s tempting to wonder if he had a point. A song as good as its follow up New York shouldn’t sound as much of a slog as the Pistols are making it, and when Carter has to stop Pretty Vacant three times whilst in the crowd while trying to start a huge mosh pit, you fear that the stalling momentum might totally kill the set.
Thankfully, it’s the moment when the song finally does get going that appears to kick the whole band into gear. From there on in, the Sex Pistols are on fire. It helps that they’ve got a collection of some of the most timeless and definitive punk tunes ever. Sure, God Save the Queen and the closing Anarchy In The UK go without saying, but the chance to hear the likes of Liar, EMI, Bodies and their always excellent cover of The Stooges' No Fun (featuring a rainbow appearing next to the band as the rain stops and the sun comes out) is a rare treat.
Also, form is temporary and class is permanent; with these songs, Steve Jones' immortal and unique guitar tone and Frank’s propensity for causing all manner of chaos whenever he sets foot onstage, the Sex Pistols have class throughout their ranks.
They also have a very different vibe from that of the likes of Green Day; the spontaneity of Carter’s antics, be it him diving into the crowd and pushing them back in an attempt to create the festival's biggest ever circle pit or getting Jones to pull his top up as the crowd shout “You fat bastard!", that feeling of the unknown, the unpredictable and, yes, the anarchic is far more present here than the Vegas showmanship of the previous evening.
If there are complains, then they’re small; the baffling lack of the wonderful Submission from the set, the fact that, unsurprisingly, a crowd here mostly to see Spiritbox, McFly and Sleep Token aren’t all completely familiar with the material, meaning the energy isn’t quite as charged and consistent as their electric Royal Albert Hall show back in March, and the total erasure of Lydon from the classic footage of the band's 70s glory years played on the screens behind the band does feel rather disrespectful to such an important figure.
But overall this is a great set and a timely reminder that, whether their original frontman likes it or not, the true spirit of punk still lives large in these legends.
