Before The Meffs play “Business” tonight, Lily Hopkins reflects on how, when the duo started the band, they were told they’d never play big stages, never get decent support slots and never play to proper crowds.
Everything they’ve done since has proved those people wrong.
MV has now seen them with Alice Cooper, Frank Turner, Stiff Little Fingers and, tonight, Joan Jett. There is a reason they keep getting these opportunities, too: The Meffs are a tremendously energetic, interesting and combative punk band.
Their cover of The Prodigy’s “Breathe” drags the song into a rawer, punkier place, but it’s their political leanings that perhaps interest MV most. “Broken Britain, Broken Brains” is dedicated to, those three pieces of shit Nigel Farage, Tommy Robinson and Elon Musk.
Hopkins is equally happy to tackle X-Ray Spex’s “Identity”, and by the time The Meffs finish with “Clowns”, the inference is clear. They’ll gladly suffer for what they believe in, but if you’re on their side, they’re all for you.
With a new album due and all these chances to share stages with genuine legends of rock and punk, The Meffs are a band very clearly on the rise.
The doubters, you imagine, have gone rather quiet.
Joan Jett walks onto the Civic Hall stage, checks her guitar herself and, somehow, still looks every bit as dangerous as she did on the videos they’d played on the big screen before she’d come out.
“Victim Of Circumstance” begins an 80-minute reminder of just how many great songs she has been involved in. The Runaways’ “Cherry Bomb” remains power-pop perfection, while “Do You Wanna Touch Me (Oh Yeah)” becomes the first mass singalong.
Jett introduces “You Drive Me Wild” as the first song she ever wrote, Kenny Laguna’s keys giving it a glorious barroom feel, before “(I’m Gonna) Run Away” brings a sleaze that recalls Aerosmith’s “Mama Kin”.
“The French Song” still has enough punk-rock lip curl to make Billy Idol blush, while Bruce Springsteen’s “Light Of Day” is given a dose of New York swagger. The more recent “(Make The Music Go) Boom” simply distils rock ’n’ roll into its purest form.
Before “Fake Friends”, Laguna explains its autobiographical nature. The wonderful “Androgynous”, meanwhile, is played simply out of love for The Replacements. “I really relate to the lyrics,” says Jett. Of course she does. She has spent an entire career refusing to fit anyone else’s idea of what she should be.
“Oh Woe Is Me” gives guitarist Dougie Needles room to shine, and he is sensational, while “Lie To Me” slows things down for a song about – let’s say – a bit of strange.
“Love Is Pain” is chunkier hard rock, but sounds absurdly fresh for something 45 years old, and the solo in “Long Time” is magnificent. “If You’re Blue”, a newer homage to friendship, feels like a ready-made summer anthem.
Their version of “Everyday People” carries a real warmth. For all the status, you get the sense Jett remains, fundamentally, a music fan. Maybe, too, the world could use its message of unity right now.
Then come the monsters.
I remember seeing “I Love Rock ’n’ Roll” on television as a kid. It has lost none of its power. “Crimson And Clover” changes the pace, then “I Hate Myself For Loving You” arrives. The other Joan Jett single I bought. I was 13.
“Bad Reputation” is as primal as rock ’n’ roll gets. There ain’t no cure for the summertime blues, apparently – it shares a tune. There isn’t one for this either.
To still be touring after 45 years means the songs connected then and still do now.
Joan Jett still has the attitude. She is still punk rock.
And, perhaps most importantly, she still absolutely loves being Joan Jett.
