A look at The Rezillos Wiki page leads you to think that it’s only MV in the whole of Wolverhampton that hasn’t passed through their ranks in the last 48 years.
One thing, though, hasn’t changed in that nearly half a century (two if you count singers Fay Fife and Eugene Reynolds): whatever name they’ve gone by, their commitment to bouncy punk rock has remained unwavering.
They have plenty of fans in the packed KK’s too, and their 50 minutes of action-packed, day-glo fun probably got them a few more.
“Mystery Action” is like going back to simpler times, but evidently this is a band that still has plenty to say. The constant injection of new songs is all the evidence you need.
“Do Or Die” will fit in anywhere, and the way they cleverly swerve back to older work like “Cold Wars” (it belongs in ancient times,” offers Fife) has all the skills of a wonderful band.
“It Gets Me” means even their angry songs are bouncier than a three-year-old after two days on the Skittles, and the fact that “Cranium” merrily rhymes itself with “samium” is proof that Rezillos are cooler than you.
“Somebody’s Gonna Get Their Head Kicked In Tonight” means it more than Fleetwood Mac, and after “Down To Earth,” the pick of the new ones, comes “Top Of The Pops.”
And after “(My Baby Does) Good Sculptures” and “I Can’t Stand My Baby” (probably because her sculpting skills are sub-par, but who knows?), they afford themselves an encore. “River Deep Mountain High” never sounded like this before, but it should.
The days of riding high in the charts might be over, but for The Rezillos, the fun continues. Impossible not to enjoy.
That was very good,” says Michael Bradley, The Undertones’ bass player for almost a quarter of a century, when they play “Emergency Cases.” “And I know because I understand punk rock.”
He does, when you think about it. Since emerging from Derry at the height of the Troubles, Bradley and the boys have by and large—along with their compatriots Stiff Little Fingers—been the kings of this type of thing.
Unlike SLF, though, there’s no overt political message. Instead, there’s always a smile and a bounce, right from the moment that Bradley (who is sort of the de facto frontman of the band along with the energetic singer, Paul McLoone) says, “We start quiet and go louder” before the first song. There is a palpable sense of fun about the place.
Oh, and that first song? The small matter of “Jimmy Jimmy” explodes like a glitter cannon all over the place.
Hey, ho, and away we go. Because these songs are coming thick and fast—well over 30 in about an hour and a half. No one does it like this.
They never take it too seriously, either, stopping “Girls Don’t Like It” because “it’s worth getting it right.”
But let’s be honest: if they do it wrong, there’s another one coming in a minute, whether it’s “Thrill Me” or a “Billy song,” as they put it with “Wrong Way” (written by drummer Billy Doherty). There’s a classic on its way.
So much so that what might arguably be termed the greatest pop song ever written, “Teenage Kicks,” is chucked out halfway through—and dedicated to Liam Payne.
Changes of pace happen too. “Wednesday Week” might even pass for tender, but here’s the thing about the band: they do “I Gotta Getta” from their debut and “Dig Yourself Deep” from their most recent, and they all sound as fresh as daisies.
Yet what they do is entirely original too. No one else would even think of “There Goes Norman,” never mind make it as good as this.
After “Get Over You,” they’re back for an encore (“You knew we were coming back for some more, but it’s an unspoken contract between band and audience,” smiles Bradley), and you can’t argue with “Mars Bars,” “Jump Boys,” and “Really Really.”
And that’s before the last one (“This really is the last one, and we’re away for chips”), probably the only song to mention Subbuteo (the most overrated game ever—that’s our official stance at MV), but “My Perfect Cousin” shines like a gem.
At the end of these things, you’re supposed to sum them up, and I can offer no better way than this: they do “Here Comes The Summer,” and the place bounces. In amongst all this, I spot two men of, let’s say, a certain age, dancing together, arm in arm. They’ve probably been doing it for almost 50 years. You’ve got to have special songs to make an audience do that after all this time.
And there’s no doubt about it, The Undertones are special.
One of those nights you can file under life-affirming.
