It was at some point during "Autonomy" that I realized the last time I saw The Buzzcocks was about 15 years ago at a venue in New York, where I saw the last of the shoegazers - Adorable - opening up for the punk legends.
That same night, I somehow ended up scoring an invite to an after party held in a very New York loft where one could mingle with both of the bands in question. I was with my friend Gretchen, who was hip, arty, and never lost her cool, but that was the night I saw her facade crack for the first and only time. Come to find out The Buzzcocks had played an important part in her young life and she was a gigantic fan. Merely sharing the same room with Pete Shelley was inducing a near nauseous state in her. Watching him from across the room we trembled as we carefully planned something "smart" to say to the seminal vocalist. 15 minutes later, we skittered over to him. "I love your pants" Gretchen said, indicating a smart looking pair of red plaid bondage numbers he was sporting. "Oh thank you!" he cheerfully replied. "My Mum bought them for me!" Knowing the conversation was not going to yield a better nugget than that, we nodded, giggled, and nervously and ran away, spending the rest of the summer recounting our 10 seconds with the legend.
Tonight there were no bondage pants, and Shelley is looking significantly older, more like your portly, balding, Uncle Alan whose main interests are comfy chairs, tea, and biscuits. The sound in the club is mostly terrible, but this can't repress the glee that arises from watching drummer Danny Farrant in action. A tumble of scrawny limbs pounding furiously he is the showpiece of the set. As promised the band's first two albums are played in order, but it's far more exciting when they get to the "all hits" encore.
Drummer Porn:
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