Pairing my melancholic attachment to Britpop (the result of it constantly permeating through my Dad’s stereo as a kid), with my innate anarchical roots from my teen years – I jumped at the chance to see punk visionary Brit, Billy Bragg, perform to the well-deserved grandeur of The Palais. I felt it only fitting to bring along my music mentor, and the reason for my sentimentality – Dad. Though he wasn’t alone among the over 40s, in fact, I was rather alone among the under 30s. Bragg’s following have stuck with him over the years, and grown with him since his solo inauguration back in ‘84.
Respectably right on time, he opened with Ideology, political activist anthem for the working class Brits. His ubiquitous polemic passion instantly filled the arches of the theatre – twenty-eight years on from the track’s release, his heart hasn’t jaded. He followed on with No One Knows Nothing Anymore and as a prelude to Way Over Yonder In The Minor Key offered a self-effacing jibe at journalists accusing him of “going country,” to which, that’s all I’ll say on that one. Between tracks, Bragg formed a paradigm; comedian, activist, motivational speaker, punk leader, and, a musician simply suffering from the human condition, just like the rest of us. His diversity was reflected even further through his set list. He followed with some Americana covers – Woody Guthrie’s All You Fascists and I Ain’t Got No Home, and The Rolling Stones’ Dead Flowers – a clear indication of Bragg’s inspiration.
He gave his band the cue to leave the stage, making a humourous tongue-in-cheek remark about the “fucking union” enforcing their dinner break. He sweetly swung his electric guitar over his shoulder, assuring us that he didn’t mind because, “I get to spend some alone time with you guys”. One thing is for certain; Billy Bragg is the quintessential entertainer. Not only because his talent is ever-present, but also because he genuinely enjoys it. It was humbling to watch. Now, the set somewhat more intimate, he pulled our heartstrings with Little Time Bomb and fittingly regulated that emotion with the empowerment of Between the Wars.
His band re-assembled on stage to perform one of his greatest hits from ‘91, Sexuality, matched with a new release, There Will Be a Reckoning off his latest 2013 album, Tooth & Nail. A prelude of reverberating bass introduced his last track with an ensemble, New England, in a suitably dramatic fashion, which evoked a roaring applause that saw them off the stage. It may have been the begging from the audience, or the acumen of the entertainer – but he soon after returned to the stage to grace us with a dedication to recently deceased British Trade Unionist, Bob Crowe, with There Is Power in the Union and Tank Park Salute.
Bragg left us with an insightful message: “cynicism is our greatest enemy; the belief that it’s all fucked – the sooner we realise this, the sooner we can make the Great Leap Forward.” The legendary track from ’88 ensued, and there wasn’t a silent mouth in the house. I left feeling absolutely liberated, ready to tackle Tony Abbott. Until next time, Billy.
BY ASH BARTLETT
LOVED: Everything.
HATED: The dry zone.
DRANK: See above.
