Review: The Rezillos, Bierkeller

It’s fair to say that Department S have a fairly chequered history but that need not detain us here as what matters is the fact they delivered a formidable and powerful set with the majority of the numbers new and easily the match of the older songs. The current line up Eddie Roxy, vocals; Phil Thompson, guitar; Pete Jones, bass and Alan Galaxy on drums are a taut suited & booted outfit and they delivered a muscular ten or so songs with both energy and conviction. Roxy, a relatively static presence on stage, had a consummate new wave insouciance about his vocals whilst Thompson and Jones were never still: Townsend jumps; that duck walking glide (as perfected by Wilko Johnson) and constant motion.  Galaxy was a solid and powerful presence, his compelling beats the foundation for Jones’ muscular bass and Thompson’s lean riffs and needle sharp leads.

There was no hanging around as the band punched out the tunes, vivacious new wave laced with RnB (but à la early Who and the Pirates rather than Usher or R Kelly) filled with hooks. Going Left Right was reimagined as a rock tune (Roxy wryly commenting on the original “disco” mix) and Is Vic There? slightly menacing, slightly seedy but entirely catchy – both tunes killers. When All is Said and All is Done an instant ear worm despite the seemingly cumbersome title and Long March incessant. The band closed with a brooding Sonic Reducer and received a rousing ovation from the crowd. Never mind that chequered history this is a vibrant band punching out relevant new material and deserving of your attention.

The Rezillos were a blast back in ye olde days of punke rocke, dayglow sci-fi surfer blasts like the house band from an alternative  Supermarionation world a thousand light years away from anarchy, the winter of discontent, spitting and black leather jackets. Top of the Pops succinctly summed up the whole seventies musical experience for many but as tonight’s set demonstrated, their tunes still sound fresh today and what’s more, grin inducing pogotastic fun. In fact with Trump trying to declare war in 140 characters what better way to escape the idiocy of the 21st century?

Opening with Destination Venus the band hit their stride instantly and did not let up throughout the show. The current line-up of Fay Fife: vocals / tantrums; Eugene Reynolds: vocals / good guitar; Angel Paterson: drums; Chris Agnew: bass / thunder and Jim Brady: hard guitar (all sic) really are super tight and totally in command of their material – new(ish) tunes from Zero alongside everything you’d want to hear from Can’t Stand the Rezillos (and B Sides).

Fife and Reynolds are accomplished singers and both demand attention, striking poses, constantly encouraging crowd participation; Fife still wide eyed and auditioning dance moves for a spot on Ready Steady Go! whilst Reynolds comes across as an alternative Elvis who found a career as smuggler on the Mars to Venus run. The pair also aid and abet instrumentally, Reynolds bulking up the sound with rhythm guitar and providing honking cosmic sax whilst Fyfe stabs out garage keys and threatens both band and crowd with an iron. No, really – she had an iron on the keys…just in case.

Brady’s guitar work was excellent throughout, crunching out the riffs and knocking out the succinct twanging solos, all the while bouncing around the stage seemingly in defiance of gravity. Seriously, Tigger on speed would struggle to keep up with the guy and yet not a note was missed nor a solo misplayed. Agnew and Patterson provided the launch pad for the lunacy, totally unfazed by bouncing guitar players, irons or the efforts of Fyfe, Reynolds and Brady to simultaneously be in the same spot whilst covering every yard of the stage.

With just two studio recordings to select from the set list was not exactly full of surprises but the new material slotted in seamlessly and the old favourites greeted with delight. It would be hard to pick out a stand out cut as they all ripped along effortlessly: incessant hooks, irresistible choruses – a clat of earworms. Top of the Pops would be the obvious tune to single out, its charms still resisting the curse of over familiarity, but Flying Saucer Attack hit home, (My Baby Does) Good Sculptures scored with its quirky charms and who could choose between I Can’t Stand My Baby and Mystery Action? Not me sir.

There’s no doubt that Fyfe and Reynolds are the heart of the band, their onstage pronouncements remain surreal, hilarious and inaudible (they talk over each other like an old couple). But the band is very much a band, and that come over in the performance: you don’t spend your nights jumping round playing bonkers sci-fi punk unless you love it…and the band clearly loved the show and the reaction from the crowd.

The encores were time for cover fun – a breathless Glad All Over was effortlessly driven by Patterson, his pounding glam drums had powered the band all night and he really pummelled this tune into submission (and naturally every bugger in the crowd knew the words). Remarkably he had more in the tank though – the show could only finish one way and Patterson found his inner boot boy for the seminal aggro-beat of Somebody’s Gonna Get Their Head Kicked in Tonite, rapturously received as the crowd found their last dregs of energy to pogo like it was 1979.

A lot of people associate punk with angst & nihilism; a lot of people associate punk with discordant political sub-heavy metal rants and a lot of people subscribe to received wisdom regarding the genesis of punk and the bands that “really mattered”, the bands the really meant it…man. But there was a far broader cultural shift and the Rezillos were an important part of that changing musical landscape. They remain a potent reminder of the actual diversity of those breathless days and a fabulous night out.

All pix John Morgan

The Rezillos: Bierkellerr, 3rd November 2017