Public Image Ltd. For weeks
the youths of New York are talking about nothing else. In fact all of
them: the countless Lydia Lunch lookalikes, the pill-poppers imported
from Europe in small numbers for the occasion, the John Lurie / James
White cool jazz and cocktail replicants, the genuine rock'n'rollers,
the jazz connoisseurs, the just arrived totally clueless "where
are you from, I'm from Texas" figures. All of them. Finnish scholarship
holders who provide European painting over here, French trendy import
rockers, but hardly any blacks.
So the rush on the demarcation
line in addition was dominated by masses of punks who still stick up
for their old hero, despite the spectacular flop one year ago at the
Ritz, when PiL showed only videos and caused a riot, and they were all
convinced that John wouldn't get away with it a second time. He didn't
try. After the satirical band "Art" showed their critical
awareness in a silly way by covering obviously hated chart hits and
"funnily" changing the lyrics, there followed a long pause
during which the rush towards places with a good sight became dangerous.
The manager of the venue came on stage surrounded by burly bouncers
and asked the crowd to step back a little, a request that only was sneered
at.
When the American crowds
don't have a line in front of them and the direction isn't set by doorkeepers
or police cordons, they know no limits anymore. The rush grew into an
uproar, myself in the middle, and the concert began, although shortly
before the manager threatened to cancel the gig. After the trio of Keith
Levene / Peter Jones, ex Cowboys International bassist / Martin Atkins
had warmed up with sick blues variations Johnny Lydon entered the stage
in great mood, and to the frenetical joy of the masses he delivered
the whole potpourri of gestures, sneering alcoholic British jokes, punk
grimaces and PiL classics, especially the first album was nearly completely
played: 'Annalisa', 'Religion' and especially right at the beginning
the best PiL song to date: 'Public image'.
At the front there was pogo and the stage was invaded, the bouncers
who covered Lydon from sight the most time threw four or five climbers
off the stage, and Johnny smiled. A touch of '77 waved through the hall.
The final victory for PiL - musically a good band, by the way - came
when they played the song 'Mad Max', which is destined to became a hit.
John's strident voice works for a modernised white rock music, without
any avant-garde ambitions, without any sweetness which would be inappropriate
here in America. |