August and September saw the band perform three fundraiser shows at Bush Hall in Shepherds Bush; they were so successful that five extra UK dates were announced. I failed to get tickets for the fundraisers and then didn’t even know about the extra dates until the last minute.
I became aware of the Kentish Town date on the 24th September, just two days before it happened. That event was sold out in less than five minutes apparently, so I didn’t hold out much hope that I’d get to go.
But luck was on my side that day, I was able to buy a fan-to-fan resale ticket on Ticketmaster, it cost me more than it would have done if I could have got one earlier, but not a lot more, and I didn’t care … I was going. And I haven’t felt that excited about a gig since I was a teenager.
Getting to the gig on the day though required a series of obstacles to be overcome, and at times I felt that things were conspiring against me getting there at all.
This post is therefore in two parts, the nightmare journey and then the joyous outcome from some persevering.
The not good stuff
Plan A
The challenges started around lunchtime when Trainline advised of delays and cancellations on the line into Euston. It turned out that there had been a fatality around Watford Junction and that various tracks were closed at the scene. The knock-on effects to the travelling public were significant.
Plan B
Given that I was uncertain that my train ticket would now get me to and from London in a timely fashion, I made a decision to drive into the capital instead. I made my way to Burnt Oak, parked up in the tube station car park and wandered up to the station to find it closed. A station operative advised all of us gathered outside that a tree was down over the line and no trains were running.
Plan C
So plan A and plan B had failed and I had to come up with a plan C on the fly.
This time the thinking was I needed a Northern Line tube station with a car park, that wasn’t in the congestion charging zone. I settled on High Barnet and plugged the postcode in the satnav. Only seven miles distance … but a 28 minute journey!
Once I made it to HB, it transpired that the only way to pay for the parking was via an app. So that meant downloading the app, registering the car and then adding the payment card.
That must have wasted another 5-10 minutes – and by then I could feel the anger, aggression and anti-establishmentarianism starting to boil up. Arguably perfect for a punk gig.
The car park at Burnt Oak was free, no such luck at High Barnet, that car park is expensive.
But I got on the tube and made it to Tufnell Park. Why there you might ask, well Kentish Town tube station is closed until the end of the year.
Once out of the Tube Station a walk down Fortress Road was required … and of course it was tipping down with rain.
But despite the stress and the setbacks, I made it to the gig on time.
The good stuff
But even having made it on time and watched the support band - yes, you guessed it - there was another problem. I think the Pistols were due on at 9pm, but come the hour, an announcement was made over the tannoy that there had been a medical emergency.
I didn’t hear it properly and, given my evening to that point, I wouldn’t have been surprised to find out that one of the band had taken a turn and the gig was about to get cancelled.
Original band members Paul Cook (68), Glen Matlock (68) and Steve Jones (69) were joined by stand-in front man Frank Carter (40). The majority of the band and the audience, me included, were of an age where medical emergencies are a lot more likely than they used to be.
It turned out though that an audience member had been taken ill and rushed to hospital, so the gig would carry on just later than planned.
At 9:30 I was right at the front when the band came on and launched into its set. The place erupted and from then on it was bedlam – moshing, crowd surfing, surges forward, drinks thrown around and the crowd singing along to every single song.
Frank Carter was the consummate front man; he had the audience eating from the palm of his hand, hanging on his every word and laughing at his gags. And he repaid the loyalty from his admirers by launching himself into the audience and singing whilst moshing or crowd surfing. He’s not a big guy and he even joked that he might be 5ft 7 in terms of height, but 7ft 5 in terms of energy.
He had the punk sneer mastered, the jumps and leaps sorted, he even threw in a little bit of mincing to thoroughly entertain the crowd.
Frankly (pun intended), Carter was brilliant, funny, and his boundless energy and enthusiasm was captivating. His challenge to step into the shoes of the legendary John Lydon was huge, but he absolutely nailed it. He brought the whole place alive in a way that the rest of the band couldn’t have done without him. By comparison, the other chaps weren’t particularly animated at all.
In fact, given Lydon’s age, I don’t think that he could have achieved the impact that Carter had on the O2 Forum. I know that Pistols die-hards will baulk at that, but there you are.
The band played everything from the legendary Never Mind The Bollocks (NMTB) album as well as a few other tunes, one of which was ‘My Way’. Getting to hear those songs live and loud was life affirming and damn nearly spiritual for this ageing rocker. The full set list is shared here:
- Holidays In The Sun
- Seventeen
- New York
- Pretty Vacant
- Bodies
- Silly Thing
- Liar
- God Save The Queen
- Submission
- Satellite
- No Feelings
- No Fun
- Problems
- EMI
- My Way
- Anarchy For The UK
I was down the front near the barriers in the middle of the stage and from the first chord was in the thick of the pushing and shoving. By the end of the gig, I was soaked in sweat and a little bruised. As well as having a good view, there was another upside, when Steve Jones threw his guitar picks into the audience, I managed to catch two – result! The scramble for those was as energetic as any of the moshing.
To borrow a sentiment from My Way, 'regrets, I have a few' … but the only one I’ll mention is that I didn’t buy myself a tour shirt from an outside ‘non official’ vendor. There was this yellow NMTB shirt printed front and back (better than any of the official stuff), but the purveyor didn’t have my size left. He said ‘the shop is just down there’, pointing south down Fortress Road. I was rushing though and really didn’t have time to go back. I wish I had made more of an effort now.
I did try over the next day or two to track a shirt down by phone. But trying to find a source proved fruitless, not that I am exactly surprised by that given the Del Boy nature of the illicit tee shirt trade. That said, if any of you know anyone, who knows of someone who may be able to help me, please get in touch.
To wrap, I know that I have already used many superlatives, but even days later, I am still buzzing about how good this gig was. The challenges getting there now comedic in terms of their impact rather than stressful.
So good was the show that I have watched it twice more since getting home. If you take a trip to YouTube and look up Simon Sanders https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4xob6rTbjTw&t=147s you can see the whole gig for yourself.
Do it, do it now!
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