THE BUZZCOCKS / RAR Everyone sprang to life when the Buzzcocks finally emerged with an impeccable block of classics, sprinkled with the strongest of the punk legends' recent material. The idea of aging punk rockers nostalgically milking the glory days of their angry youth seems a formula for tragic embarrassment. But the world is no less alienating, cruel and dark than it was 25 years ago, and the Buzzcocks still have fire in their bellies. When the group delivered a bone-chilling “I Believe” and Pete Shelley howled, “there is no love in this world anymore,” it felt as if every year that has passed since that song's conception has dug a deeper understanding of its painful truths. After years of exploring other styles and approaches, the Buzzcocks have returned to their roots with the fortunate understanding that their time is far from up. Opener RAR needs to discern when to rethink its approach or pull out of the over-saturated music scene altogether. RAR played un -catchy songs with empty lyrics and self-indulgent “jamming” to show off whatever instrumental virtuosity it had — in other words, the complete opposite of punk. The unreasonably polite audience responded to an eternally long set by clearing the floor or sitting on the edge of the stage with backs to the band, holding their spots for the headlining Buzzcocks. (Originally published in The Cleveland Free Times, December 3, 2003) |