There was a sense that this was more than just another summer concert in Halifax. Three generations of punk collided in the spectacular surroundings of The Piece Hall, with rising stars, enduring heroes and genuine legends combining for an evening that celebrated punk’s past while proving there’s still plenty of life left in it.
Cardiff’s Panic Shack were the perfect choice to kick things off. The female-dominated quartet – with the sole male member behind the drum kit – delivered a set packed with attitude, humour and infectious energy. Their shout-along choruses, wiry riffs and unapologetic swagger quickly won over the early crowd, confirming why they’re increasingly being tipped as one of the UK’s most exciting new punk bands. Loud, loose and enormous fun, they set the tone perfectly.
The Undertones may no longer feature original frontman Feargal Sharkey, but that’s hardly a concern when Paul McLoone has become such a natural fit over the years. Comfortable in his own skin and never attempting to imitate his predecessor, McLoone leads the band with confidence, allowing the songs to remain the stars of the show.
The Derry legends tear through their catalogue with remarkable vigour and verve. Mid-set, Teenage Kicks receives the rapturous reception it deserves, prompting one of the biggest singalongs of the night, while Jimmy Jimmy, My Perfect Cousin, Male Model and a stream of other classics remind everyone just how deep their catalogue runs. Decades on, these songs still balance sharp-edged punk urgency with irresistible pop hooks, and the band retain enough bite to stop them ever feeling like a nostalgia act. By the time they leave the stage, they almost feel like headliners in their own right.
Of course, the biggest talking point remains the Sex Pistols performing without John Lydon, but with Frank Carter at the microphone any doubts quickly disappear.
Rather than attempting an impression of Lydon, Carter wisely makes the songs his own. It’s obvious this music runs deep within him, and his performance is utterly committed from the opening blast of Holidays in the Sun. Charismatic, unpredictable and relentlessly energetic, he throws himself into every lyric, encouraging the crowd to sing, dance and lose themselves in the music. By the end of the night, it’s impossible to imagine anyone better suited to front this version of the band. He is simply brilliant.
Behind him, the original trio remain a formidable force. Steve Jones’ guitar playing is as distinctive as ever, his riffs alternating between razor-sharp punk aggression and flashes of bluesy swagger. Glen Matlock’s melodic basslines continue to drive the songs forward with effortless momentum, while Paul Cook’s drumming provides the rock-solid backbone, bouncing through every anthem with infectious energy.
The set scarcely pauses for breath. Pretty Vacant, Bodies, Liar, God Save the Queen, No Feelings and Problems all land with remarkable force, before E.M.I. raises the temperature again. Carter even embraces the theatricality of My Way before the inevitable finale of Anarchy in the U.K. sends The Piece Hall into one last joyous frenzy.
Punk was never meant to stand still, and this line-up proves exactly why. Panic Shack represent its future, The Undertones remain one of its finest melodic exponents, and the Sex Pistols, revitalised by Frank Carter’s fearless presence, demonstrate that nearly 50 years after they first caused outrage, these songs can still ignite a crowd.
For one summer evening in Halifax, punk felt as vital as ever
