While nostalgia for the punk era has been with us for decades—and probably will be for a few more considering many of those once-penniless kids are now normal professionals with disposable incomes—it currently appears to be somewhat more intense, at least as far as the concert calendar is concerned. Thank Donald Trump’s fascist tendencies, or in some cases just a decent paycheck, but these days it seems we can’t go more than a few weeks without some late-’70s/early-’80s punk staple playing our fair city, and while some acts have aged better than others, it’s still generally been a trend worth celebrating.
That’s mostly because many of the old pioneers thankfully still have plenty of passion left, which was certainly the case with Friday’s rare appearance from Stiff Little Fingers. Warming up for the legendary, long-running Belfast outfit was Norwegian garage rockers Death by Unga Bunga, who take their name from an old and smutty joke that’s not nearly funny enough to actually retell here. Musically, however, their blend of hooky, hard-edged power pop and time-tested classic rock antics—for instance, a Thin Lizzy cover culminating with all the guitarists theatrically playing the solo behind their heads—appeared to please the unsurprisingly large crowd.
That crowd, incidentally, was kept at bay by an apparently newly installed chest-level fence with a lonely looking security guard milling about behind it, although it didn’t seem to impede lead singer Sebastian Ulstad Olsen, who routinely roamed the audience shouting the oftentimes dopey lyrics directly into people’s faces.
While many of their contemporaries have only recently come out of retirement, Stiff Little Fingers have been remarkably active since their 1979 debut, despite an extended hiatus in the mid-’80s and a few inevitable lineup changes. Now celebrating their 40th anniversary, for their set the band effortlessly blended newer material, such as “My Dark Places” from their latest studio album, 2014’s No Going Back, with a wide selection of classics from their back catalogue, which included tunes like “Barbed Wire Love” and “Nobody’s Hero” as well an exciting rendition of “Suspect Device” leading into the set break. Most songs were accompanied by an introductory anecdote—whether it be about bandleader Jake Burns’ struggle with depression or getting shitfaced with fellow Irishman Phil Lynott—a personal touch that demonstrated why they’re still playing them after all these years.
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