The second gig of the weekend for me was an entirely different affair from the night before, a full throttle punk affair featuring Airdrie’s Reaction and the high octane thrill ride that is Ramonas. Unfortunately due to train cancellations I missed the start of Reaction’s set, but appropriately, when I arrived, breathless from a quick sprint up from the station, they were part way through Faster, a theme which was to be a core principle for the evenings entertainment.
As I sat in the station earlier, and the announcements came over the tannoy about cancelled trains, I almost chucked it and went home, my head telling me “Its Sunday night, maybe you’d be better having an early night – work tomorrow”. Thankfully I picked the option of sitting and waiting it out.
I may only have seen about half of Reaction’s set, but from what I saw, and heard, they were on top form. Their adrenaline rush of top notch punk tunes felt even more urgent than usual tonight as they tried to cram as many songs as they could into their short allotted time.
FUBAR was almost appropriate for Big Carson, having spoken to him after the gig, his celebrations after Airdrie’s victory on Saturday left him voiceless on Sunday morning… thankfully by the evening he was in good voice. Speed was of the essence so only appropriate that Dead Boy Racer was in the set which they rattled through at 100mph, before closing with their fists in the air declaration of intent that is Hey Patty Hearst.
Talking of playing at 100mph and cramming as many songs into the set as possible….
Ramonas are everything you could ever want from a Ramones tribute act. And more. They are virtually the Ramones re-incarnated for the 21st Century, with one obvious difference, but essentially they take the blueprint and replicate it immaculately. Really, why would you want to change anything?
Everything about a Ramonas show is delivered exactly as you could hope for, and expect. Song after song is played at breakneck speed, and precisely, never missing a note, beat or lyric, and all delivered in machine gun fashion with no chance for a breath, the standard “1,2,3,4” intro the only break between songs. Not only that, but “Cloey” (frontwoman Lisa) has all Joey’s poses and mannerisms off to a T, nothing is left to chance, everything that comes from the stage radiates Ramones across the whole venue.
As for the songs, forgive me if I can’t quite remember the order they came in but when you are being battered hard and fast by some of the best 2 minute blasts of energy ever written, this 52 year old memory starts to get befuddled… Suffice to say that what they deliver is banger after banger, a joyous celebration of all that is good about a high energy live performance.
Blitzkreig Bop, I Wanna Be Sedated, Pet Sematary, Judy is a Punk, 53rd and 3rd, I Believe in Miracles, Teenage Lobotomy….when you have a back catalogue as good as this to pick from and a band as tight and as talented as this to play them, you can’t fail. The audience were eating out of the palm of Cloey’s hand from the first bar to the last note played.
As soon as Lisa dons her shades, she is in character as Cloey for the duration, mid-set the shades came off and she was Lisa for the delivery of five songs from their own albums kicking off in style with First World Problems piledriving through to songs from last year’s Haphazard album. What these songs and albums prove is that Ramonas as a band are far from a one trick pony (albeit if they were only playing Ramones songs the one trick is no pony, but a highly respected race winning thoroughbred).
Shades back on and it was back to the non stop foot to the floor performance of the most famous NYC brudda’s back catalogue, the sheer rush of positive energy pulsing from each of the four rocket fuelled musicians was palpable, infectiously emanating through the venue, the vitality and vigorous energy finding its way into the collective consciousness creating a vibrant spirited response.
Just when you thought it was all over Cloey and the gang returned for their bouncing 3 song encore, complete with baseball bat for a rabble rousing Beat on the Brat. I couldn’t have thought it possible, but I do believe the band’s energy levels had risen several notches before the triumphant battle cry of R.A.M.O.N.E.S brought the evening to a clamorous climax.
What a perfect way to round off the weekend.
R.A.M.O.N.A.S. – RAMONAS!
