By Aditi Hrisheekesh, Co-Deputy Music Editor
Public Image Limited hit the stage like post-punk prophets: seasoned alchemists turning fifty years of riffage into fiery musical gold. An ombré wall of flame-coloured lights adorned the backdrop, making Johnny Rotten emerge like a phoenix risen out of the ashes.
Fifty years on from their first frenzied fumble into post-punk history, the band drags a body of work that is still thriving and still mutating. The nostalgic punch of their second studio album Metal Box (1979) still kicks you in the gut when played live.
Former Sex Pistols frontman, John Lydon – donned in a tartan green suit, arms spread – looked like a magician or an unhinged game-show host with his quips and moments of sardonic humour between songs. You couldn’t not look at him.
They open with just the eerie intro of ‘Order of Death’ - an uneasy, paranoid throb that feels like being led down a dark stairwell. ‘This is what you want, this is what you get’, Lydon’s voice echoes, and that’s it – just that line, left hanging. It’s a personal favourite, and they haven’t touched it live since 2016. Like their music had been sharpening itself, brewing for a much-awaited release.
The crowd was an eclectic bunch – punks of all ages wearing various concoctions of denim, leather, and Doc Martens, some sporting Mohawks. Band tees were dispersed across the crowd, adorned with 70s rockstars like Joey Ramone and Mick Jagger staring back at you. It was like stepping in a living musical archive.
New drummer Mark Roberts slots in with the band really smoothly; he’s been drumming with big names since the early 1980s, including a stint with Massive Attack and brings that dubby, shadowy undertow that roots the band's live sound in something dark and rhythmic.
The music sounded dense and alive – Scott Firth’s bass giving a familiar thick bassline with Lu Edmonds’ guitar, without a studio sheen, crunching the melody into jittery edges.
‘Death Disco’ (‘Swan Lake’ on Metal Box) was everything theatrical. A song that cut through the air like a razor in a tutu. The instrumental quote is straight from Tchaikovsky’s ballet and has been twisted into a grim dancefloor requiem. One of the founders of the band, the late Keith Levene, had stumbled onto a fragment of the melody and then leaned into it, turning classical tragedy inside-out.
Then came ‘Rise’. A moment during the encore when the room seemed to lift off its hinges as Lydon’s vocals swelled into a gospel-esque crescendo. The fiery lights bathed us in flickering reds and oranges, as if we were being consumed by flames in some sort of sonic exorcism. The entire set carried a very specific vibe: elegance warped through a punk haze until it screeched.
Featured Image: Aditi HrisheekeshDo you think punk is back?
