We’re on our way to Ragged Nights 2 at Temple Works – a night of punk influenced bands playing in honour of the Jamie Reid exhibition that’s currently on display there. I haven’t been to see a punk band in a really long time, and I’m feeling nervous. As an underage teen, I’d regularly head off to The Duchess on Vicar Lane to try and blag my way in without ID see local bands play.
On the way in, the bouncer looks me up and down, and I panic that he’s going to ask me for ID. Then I remind myself that I’m not 16 anymore, I don’t have to stand up straight and plaster make up on to make me look older. I am old. And I definitely have ID.
He doesn’t ask me for ID. I’m disappointed. I figure that I must be looking more withered these days.
Ticket Guy: Hey.
Me: Hi. Er. Yes. Hello. I’m on the guest list.
Ticket guy looks down at the table which has only a cash box and a blank piece of paper on it.
Ticket Guy: Er. I don’t think there is one. Who do you know?
Me: Er Kil Phirby?
Ticket Guy: Wha-?
Me: HA! Sorry. I mean, Phil Kirby.
[Awkward Silence]
Ticket Guy: Okay. Cool. [Draws wobbly circle on my hand] Yeah. That’s gone wrong – sorry, but you’ve got a lumpy hand.
We head inside, momentarily examining my lumpy hand. We have a wander around and look at the Jamie Reid work, whilst the sound-check finishes up.
Temple Ghosts are on first – the crowd drift over from various corners of the venue and collects in front of the stage. At first we’re shy and hang back like parents at a teenager’s party, and then, slowly, we step forward to join the rest of the crowd.
“Hi, we’re Temple Ghosts,” announces lead singer Trent – who organised the event. Then everyone in front of us puts earplugs in.
Neither of us has earplugs. I haven’t been to a punk gig in a long while, but I don’t remember ever taking ear plugs with me. Today, as I write this review, my ears are ringing. I’m pretty sure I have tinnitus. I keep shouting ‘What?!’ at people who haven’t said anything. It’s very confusing for all of us. I have made a mental note to take earplugs to all other gigs in the future.
Temple Ghosts play a great set and I’m feeling overly impressed by the performance. Admittedly, I didn’t know what to expect, but tracks ‘Slomo’ and ‘Waiting to Die’ were particularly haunting and made all the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
“I talk too much, apparently,” says the lead singer of Feral Youth – a band from Nottingham who replaced Heroin Diet on the set list. “Some people think I talk too much,” he says again pacing up and down in front of the crowd. “Some people find it annoying. But some people find endearing…” he says. It’s definitely the latter – you can’t help but be drawn to Feral Youth’s energy. They blast out several short, hardcore punk tracks (one lasts a whopping 22 seconds) during their relatively short set.
With the crowd now sufficiently warmed up, Bears Killing Bears take the stage. It’s a fast-paced, thrashy set including tracks with some pretty awesome names – ‘Psycho’ being my particular favourite (as it does exactly what it said on the tin). Overall it’s a fierce set, with growling basslines making the Bears Killing Bears name suitably fitting.
A brief intermission follows before Crusades take the stage. It’s a totally hypnotic experience watching each track being furiously hammered out. An energetic performance that is as melodic as it is heavy. ‘Rifftastic’ is how the guys describe themselves, and I honestly can’t think of a better word.
And as the penultimate act The Afternoon Gentlemen set up, the crowd flood in. I gaze across a sea of leather jackets and spikes. My spidey senses tingle. A mosh-pit is afoot. My mosh-pit days are over as I resemble a ball-bearing in a pinball machine – one where the ball-bearing eventually gets crushed by other, bigger ball-bearings. So I politely sit this one out. And I make the right decision because here’s where things get thrashy – fast, thrashy and aggressive and thrashy again.
Last up: Endless Rope who’s set, unfortunately, coincided with catch-the-last-bus-home time. I can safely say that those who didn’t stay for Endless Rope seriously missed out.
“I have really cheap cymbals!” yelled the drummer after the first song. “You’ll have to come closer if you want the full effect.”
We trot closer to the stage. And now we feel the effect. Cheap cymbals or no cheap cymbals, that drummer absolutely hammered those things – but not in an Animal-from-the-Muppets type way, but in a crazy-energetic-drummer-who-drank-too-much-Redbull-and-has-amazing-precision type way. It was… I don’t know… completely insane.
The night wraps and we head home – a little drunk, a little sweaty and almost completely deaf.
Even though I’ve been out of the loop for a long time, I was excited by what I had witnessed at Temple Works. And I was reassured that no matter how long you’ve been out of the loop, it’s never too late to get back. It’s never too late to be blown away.