Rancid Live
WORDS: Yasmin Begum (Youth Editorial Group)
Someone said that Rancid are to this generation what The Clash were to the last. Hardly any other band in living memory has caused a bigger riff in the punk community, first with their major label signing, then with frontman Tim Armstrong's divorce from (the now defunct) Distillers' frontwoman, Brody Dalle.
Some dislike?them for the fashion-punk look (which is more apparent in their crowd than the band) or for Armstrong's 'hard man' attitude. Regardless, they remain one of the most loved bands of the alternative scene and have kept their fanbase. After breaking through with their major label debut single Ruby Soho in 1994, the Californian band?formed?from the ashes of influential ska group Operation Ivy, with which Tim Armstrong and his crew from East Bay had been kicking around for years.
Announcing their tour earlier this year, tickets went on sale in July and were sold out within?a month, which was clear from the amount of people hanging around?Cardiff Univerity's?Senghenydd Road entrance desperately?trying to buy a ticket. Needless to say, Rancid's trip to play the Welsh capital had been highly anticipated.
First?up were The Exposed. I had heard of them from someone who saw them busking outside an Anti-Flag gig in Birmingham last year. Based in Portsmouth, The Exposed are a band that specialise in the somewhat overdone reggae punk genre of music. They failed to warm up the crowd whatsoever, with many lining up at the bar, in the cloakroom or checking out the merchandise stall.
Following The Exposed were?Oi, a?punk band in a similiar vein to Oi Polloi Argy Bargy. Much like The Exposed, they did not fully capture the audience's attention. I'm not a big fan of oi street punk as it goes, nor the connotations that follow with it. Their songs all sounded very similiar to each other and really fuelled the oi street punk stereotype with their ranting on Gordon Brown, George Bush etc etc. Been there, done that. Unless you've got something intelligent to say or back up your wild statement with, don't say anything. I've grown sick of hearing "*** Bush!?*** Brown! Anarchy! Aaaargh!" shouted at punk rock shows. It's not a question of 'Who's more punk?' at all, it's just the same mindless, brainwashing political banter and it's gotten really, really old.
At quarter to nine Rancid took to the stage. A considerable amount of people had pushed their way to the front of?The Great?Hall to see Armstrong and co. perform hits from their catalogue. A chant of "Rancid, Rancid, Rancid" had begun and the energy was truly explosive.
Starting with the blisteringly infectious Radio from their early days, the entire turnout had morphed into a heaving body of dancing and singing. Closely followed by Roots Radicals, large parts of the crowd had stepped back to form circles in which people were moshing in the punk tradition. Rancid are a cult band, regardless of insults hurled in their direction of 'selling out' (not only by fans, but by bands such as Leftover Crack) they have remained popular?to old and young alike. Nothing like Rancid's supposed conversion to captalist fashion-punk rock divides punks more, except maybe politics!
A considerable amount of their set was based on songs from their arguably best album? . . . And Out Come The Wolves with Ruby Soho, Olympia Wa, Old Friend (which was dedicated to Rob from local skinhead band The Opressed), The 11th Hour, The Wars End and the Way I feel About You all performed to the estatic glee of the crowd.
Halfway through their set, Journey To The End Of East Bay was played, heavily elongated as Lars Frederiksen (also of Lars Frederiksen And The Bastards) introduced the band and upon introducing Matt Freeman the bassist, the infamous Journey To End Of East Bay bass solo was played not once, but twice with extra notes as he freestyled. By this point in the show everybody was soaked with sweat, beer and water. My clothes were stuck to my skin - even with the air conditioning cranked up to cold temperatures only used in summer. People's mohawks and liberty spikes were wilting under the unbearable heat toward the front of the stage, with many opting to take off their top and throw it at the band.
Blasting their way through Stand Your Ground, Fall Back Down, Salvation, everyone was united in the crowd. I saw kids younger than I, people my parent's age; real unity. It was like being in a huge, Rancid lovin' family.
They were called back for an encore and played Timebomb. This was their last song and the ambiance heightened. Imagine hundreds of people losing their minds for a few hours, then imagine them all on the biggest adrenaline rush. It was bedlam. If you weren't moshing, you were skanking, if there wasn't enough space to skank, you were pogoing, if you weren't pogoing you were singing along until your voice went hoarse - I know mine did.
I have never seen a band capture so much energy or drive. I met people who had travelled miles to see them in cars, people from the valleys who were camping outside afterwards as they couldn't get a lift back, and I met one woman who had hopped trains fron Tenby.
Before Rancid I had never seen a band so in synch with each other, and through such exceptional musicianship. I was throughly impressed. I felt as if I'd seen something really, really special.
