Bob Vylan / Panic Shack, The Ritz. 17th November 2023

Although I bought the ticket for Bob Vylan, I’m probably more excited for Panic Shack. Sorry Bob, but this lot are just so good! I last saw them in a much smaller venue, but they look very comfortable up on The Ritz stage. They’re on very early though. So early in fact that I hear one patron comically whinging that he’s not had his tea yet. Panic Shack are worth skipping a meal for though. It’s cold inside, but a good number have made the effort. “Are you ready for a good night?” Sarah asks before launching into ‘Tit School’. “That’s a new one about tits, big ones. This one’s about sandwiches”. It’s fair to say they bring an air of fun to some incendiary punk. ‘ParTy SD’ is a bit more melodic and sedate… well kind of. They don’t really let off the accelerator. The bass continues and eases us into ‘I Don’t Really Like It’. This one’s packed with an ominous menace. Helped by the triple vocal and yeah that bass. It’s dark as hell. Different to ‘Jiu Jits You’ that will slap a smile across your face and even has a dance routine coda. What’s not to love. The girl next to me can’t stand still, I don’t blame her, the lyrical pace of ‘Jelly Baby’ is breathtaking. Not to be mistaken with ‘Baby’ that follows. A bouncy bastard about really really not liking babies. It’s that humour that drives so much of the set. Yes they cover it with straight up punk, but they do it well, even playing part of the monstrous ‘Do Something’ whilst rolling around the stage. If you’ve heard one song. It’s probably ‘The Ick’. As it’s introduced I hear someone shout “YES!!” in anticipated excitement. The room, now filling up nicely, laps it up. Faces either transfixed by a band this good on so early, or utterly lost, throwing themselves around in fits of pure joy. They finish with ‘Who’s Got My Lighter?’ an angry beast that wouldn’t be out of place in an Amyl and the Sniffers set. In fact that’s a line up I’d love to see.

Next up on this one though is Kid Bookie, who I know absolutely nothing about. I’ve chosen to come in cold, hoping to be surprised and surprised I am. Let’s say this is an eclectic line up. Kid Bookie delivering a pretty eclectic sound, a mix of heavy chugging guitars, bouncy breakbeats and a vocal that goes from soaring nu metal to rap. It’s really not my thing at all, but they make a decent racket, just not one that gets under my skin. I can’t fault the effort though, Kid really goes for it. He’s chatty too, not fazed by the now full floor. Although I’ve no idea what crowds they usually pull. I’m not going to buy a record, but I do warm to them, well a little. Not enough though. Oh well. Maybe I won’t tag them, don’t want to upset anyone.

I decamp upstairs for Vylan. For no other reason than I fancy a change of view. For anyone’s who’s listened to their stuff, you’ll maybe not be surprised that the rush of energy that rips through the room upon their arrival is insane. Bob (with the mic, as apposed to behind the drum kit) has got presence. After some light audience inclusive yoga stretching while the drum goes to town, nice. They kick off, quite literally with ‘I Heard You Want Your Country Back’ a title that maybe instantly tells you where Bob is at. He writes of his life experience and as a black man with spectacular dreads, it’s fair to point out it’s very different from the experience I’ve had in this country. I’ve nothing in particular to be angry about, but Bob is driven by it, channelling it into blistering rhymes that could take your head clean off. It’s fucking brutal. The backing track of 808 State’s ‘Cubik’ with added furious kick drum, sounds deadly on ‘Take That’. It’s like a post apocalyptic rave in here and I’m quite thankful I came upstairs. Not because I don’t like mosh pits, far from it, but watching ones like this is amazing. There’s one gear for most of the set. Grab on and hold tight. The surge through the pit looks terrifying as ‘Northern Line’ explodes. Wielding a cricket bat, bouncing around the stage, those warm ups clearly worked as Bob commands the stage. Theres only him and the other Bob on drums to be fair, so he’s kinda got the run of it anyway. Stripped to the waist, ‘We Live Here’ is a torrent of buzz guitars, pounding bass drum and a shit ton of smoke. It even gets bouncy upstairs! Bob is chatty too “It’s equal parts music, equal parts chat”, leading us through the story of the band, early struggles, renaming bands, finding an audience, old songs that got them here and new stuff like ‘He’s A Man’ that sees the blokes asked to make room down the front for anyone to come down and get involved. I like this sort of stuff, Frank Carter does this a lot, but it’s a shame that this is considered something special. ‘Dream Big’ is like The Prodigy with substance. There’s no guitars on stage, in fact nothing is live but the drums and the vocals, but when done properly it doesn’t matter. And this IS proper. We get the Soft Play colab ‘The Delicate Nature’ which is a bouncy bugger and notable for its slower tempo. The bloke next to me seems to be trying to dislodge his pelvis. It’s an interesting dance style but a bit bloody annoying. It’s a lively gig and a lively crowd, clothes are thrown on stage, much to Bob’s amusement and bafflement as belts, shirts and underwear make their way up there. After a bit of clearing up and some hand sanitiser. ‘GDP’ gets us going again as we roll into the hour and a new one called ‘Hunger Games’ signals that there’s no plan to slow down. I won’t dwell on this, but back to the chat we get some pretty heavy Palestine stuff. There’s a spot of flag waving, which I’m not a fan of. Nothing good ever came from waving a flag of any colour as far as I can tell. There seems to be a green light for hate at the moment. I’m not good with that sort of stuff and I’ll admit it rattles me a bit. The world is a scary place right now. ‘I’d Rather Fight’ follows, which I’m not sure is the best choice, but hey, it’s their set and it’s a good one. Better than I’d hoped with several moments that leave me quite stunned and with so many gigs under my belt (not the one thrown on stage) I don’t stun easily. Sparks fly for ‘Wicked & Bad’, literally. I’m not sure I’ve seen pyro in the Ritz before, but it’s that kind of night. They leave us with a cover of Nirvana’s ‘Territorial Pissings’ which it has to be said is bloody amazing and I’m left with the refrain “Gotta find a way, a better way” ringing in my ears. I can get behind that.