Birmingham

One word summed up the Sex Pistols show in Birmingham - mental. Oh, and hot, very hot. It was the smallest venue the Pistols had played in the UK since the 70s, and whatever happened, it was going to be unique, memorable, and electric. But it turned out to be more than that.

The venue was baking when I arrived inside about 30 minutes before the Pistols came on stage. I weighed up the options on the balcony, but it was packed, and I felt I needed to be downstairs (also packed!), regardless of the hazards.

Then the Pistols arrived. The beer flew. Pretty Vacant opened the set and the place went... mental. Contained in such a small venue the sound was a joy to behold; it seemed at first to come at you in waves before becoming a torrent as the heat and sound merged into one. My grasp of individual songs became hazy as I switched into survival mode - what was I doing with a jacket on? Madness. The oxygen was getting sucked out of the air; no wonder John said he needed to plunge his head into a bucket of water. I can't single out one song as the highlight - it wasn't that kind of show. It was an experience. There is another word that sums up the evening, perhaps even better than "mental" - overwhelming: the sound, the heat, the atmosphere, the danger, and the Sex Pistols. You just had to be there.

From warmest "warm-up" show imaginable, it was down to Portsmouth to catch the ferry to the Isle Of Wight.

Isle Of Wight
All three days of the festival had their moments, and The Stooges - who also played Saturday - were brilliant.

But what of the Sex Pistols? How would the two shows compare? The contrast could not be greater. A 55,000 strong crowd, most of whom had bought their tickets regardless of who was headlining, and a gloriously sunny day which was now cooling nicely.

I was fortunate enough to have a wonderful unobstructed view from the side of the security pit. It meant I was in for an evening of fascinating viewing. Were the crowd up for it, and more importantly, did they need winning over?

The country version of Vacant should have taken the crowd by surprise, but didn't seem to faze them. The mellow vibe had carried over from Ian Brown's set, and the punters were happily taking it in their stride, singing along as though it was quite the norm. They all knew the real deal was about to kick off. And so it did.

There were many magic moments. John delivered plenty of humorous and barbed remarks which went down well. He complained that he couldn't hear himself in the monitors, but that Steve and Glen were very loud. John then added "We're usually worse than this!"

After Submission, John remonstrated with the crowd for being silent and encouraged them with a shout of "This is my England - I love it." Perhaps the distance of the band from the punters gave John that impression? It could only have been a momentary concern, from where I was standing the crowd was loving it. More than loving it.

The increase in excitement was obvious the moment "granddad and the boys" had hit the stage. It was as if the Birmingham crowd had been deposited at the front. Dancing, pushing and shoving, and panic increased throughout the set. First one or two girls got pulled out by "Crowd Safety" officers, then after four or five numbers it became a constant flow. Reinforcements were called in, such was the mayhem. Big "tough" looking blokes were now getting hauled over into the pit, a look of terror on their faces. The emergency stretchers were in full use along the line. It was a mind boggling sight. The most magnificent band in the world were giving a breath-taking performance up above, while down below fans were having their breath taken from them. My favourite crowd moment will stay with me forever. A six foot, thick set, shaven headed guy got dragged over the barrier to safety, followed by a giant inflatable banana. When an inflatable banana is gasping for more air, you know the band are turning in an unforgettable performance.

Above: Panic in the pit.

The huge screens gave plenty of marvellous visual moments. It was great to catch Steve and Glen facing Paul at his kit and sharing a joke. This normally private moment was up on the screens for all to see. Watching the band in massive close-ups during the show added a whole level of appreciation. John's expressions were animated to such a degree he had the audience hanging on his every stare, his every gesture.

Above: John on the big screen

Musical highlights on the night were; Pretty Vacant, No Feelings, Holidays In The Sun, No Fun (introduced by John with "Iggy is our friend") which ran straight into Problems, God Save The Queen, and the second encore, Silver Machine.

I was stunned by the occasion. It suddenly hit me that the Sex Pistols were perfectly at home in front of their biggest ever UK crowd; were at ease at one of the most prestigious music events in the world; and were on top of the world.

The sound coming out of the speakers was bone shaking. So clear yet so powerful. I didn't want it to end. Was it better than Birmingham? They were so different, it is a tough one to call. For me personally, the Isle Of Wight was probably the best Pistols show I have ever seen, edging above Finsbury Park 96 and Manchester 07. The occasion, the spectacle, the weather, and a terrific view of the proceedings, all contributed towards an historic triumph.

I felt as if this was the gig the band had always deserved.

Set List: Pretty Vacant (country) / Pretty Vacant / Bodies / Baghdad Was A Blast / Seventeen / No Feelings / New York / Did You No Wrong / Liar / Holidays In The Sun / Submission / Stepping Stone / No Fun / Problems / God Save The Queen / EMI. Encore 1: Anarchy In The UK. Encore 2: Silver Machine

Review and pictures by Phil Singleton

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God Save The Sex Pistols ©2008 Phil Singleton / www.sex-pistols.net.