So, following on from the Johnny Moped Roxy sets, here's Jon Savage's assessment of the gig. Remember, this was the gig from which much of the 'Live At The Roxy' album content was culled. All things considered it is quite a favourable review.
Sounds (16th April 1977)
Buzzcocks/Johnny Moped/Wire/X-Ray Spex/Smak
ROXY
ROXY RATPACK, Saturday nite.
Find a friend and stick close: sink or swim. Tony and Julie were right: a club full of ‘Wild Boys’ outtakes and budding SS officers – (Sunday Times headline, Sunday April 3rd: ‘National Front Woos the Young’) – plenty of new faces as the music, fashion and attitude is spread by word of mouth and publicity. The soundtrack for this B-movie tonight is five bands, all of which use as a base Punk Rhythm I – the Ramones drill variant.
First on are Smak. They are so goddam awful that they’re hardly worth writing about, except that the main motive for their formation seems to have been to cash in. No style, no music, no presence, and lyrics half-digested platitudes. And they try to ‘shock’ – Yecch.
X-Ray Spex, of all the bands on tonite, seem to have the most potential for mass appeal. The sound is basic, but full and driving and, best of all, well mixed. (The Sax sound gives them an edge of difference). I suppose they’re fashion ‘n’ fun more than anything – Poly buzzes round the stage taking hecklers in her stride (Roxy Test I is how the bands deal with exploratory barracking) and forestalling most criticism with her songs: ‘I am A Cliché’, ‘I Can’t Do Anything’, ‘Bondage Up Yours’. She needs an audience and projects… most are converted, even Ari from The Slits, who came to pull mike wires.
Next are Wire: they short-circuit the audience totally, playing about 20 numbers, most about a minute long. The audience doesn’t know when one has finished and other is beginning. I like the band for that… good theatre. Image wise they look convincingly bug-eyed, flash speed automatons caught in a ’64 mod time-warp. As to songs: I’m really not sure – there seems to be some scheme of things, but this is buried in the poor sound and the limitations of the format. I caught the words to two songs, which I knew already: ‘Three Girl Rhumba’, and ‘One, Two X U’, which was the best of the set. There were glimpses of genuine originality: I’ll hold. The audience only really got interested when the bass player blew his stack at a heckler.
By the time Johnny Moped came on, one riff was beginning to merge into another… Wire’s poor sound and pretension had me blanked out so Moped didn’t grab my attention too much – watching. I could really take it or leave it. In fact, he’s fun, one of nature’s loons, he prowls round like a shabby tiger, sawn-off leather jacket and forehead full of hair. He’s one of the audience up on stage – the distance between them is minimal – and they love it. The band drives nicely – a solid rock sound. Best are a falsetto ‘Little Queenie’ and a version of ‘Hard Loving Man’. I still think he’ll remain a minor cult figure.
Four bands on into the punkathon: numb-out. All the better that the Buzzcocks are so good. Since the release of their EP, they’ve lost lead singer Howard Devoto, apparently pissed at the media monster that ‘punk’ has become – they’ve recruited a new bassist, Garth, switched the vocals to the Starway guitarist, Pete Shelley, and rehearsed.
The last is manifest; they excel at tight band work – no posing, no gobbing, no half-baked ideas of punkismo, just energy, presence and commitment. They sing and play because they have something to say. It isn’t particulary high-flown, brief jottings of everyday small incidents of boredom, frustration and despair., as the supermarkets and motorways spread. The titles tell: ‘Orgasm Addict’ – ‘Fast Cards’ – ‘Oh Shit’ – ‘Friends of Mine’ – ‘What Do I Get’.Their image/music mesh is good too – the flat Mancunian accent and laconic dryness fitting the lyrics and the cheap as a siren guitar sound.
As befits a band with Product, they get an encore (deserved): interestingly, they don’t do their most obviously anthemic song, ‘Boredom’, but a new one – ‘Love Battery’. Showing that they’ve transcended Devoto’s loss.
So – simply – hard driving speeded up rock, felt and meant and real, a reminder (after so much wretched excess) of how good ‘new wave’ music can be, Let’s hope the audience comes to them,
Jon Savage.
