John Robb’s Goldblade have always impressed me for their incredible ability to appeal to the ‘old-school’ punk crowd. I don’t mean young people who listen to old punk. I mean the old punks who listened to punk before you were born. Few bands have managed it – hence every year at Rebellion festival most people are paying to see Cock Sparrer, not so much the wealth of ‘newer’ talent on offer (newer? You know – that sketchy period between 1990 and now). And that’s fair enough. But Goldblade somehow infiltrated a closed circle over the past decade.
They haven’t, unsurprisingly, changed their sound that much on this record. It has always reminded me (mostly cos the vocal style is almost identical at times) of the more sing-along moments from 4ft Fingers. Choruses repeated ad hoc until fade out, gang vocals sung by the cast of Ben Hur, Pistols style single note leads - it’s as it was, is now and probably forever will be. Some of the songs on this record are really up there with anything else I’ve heard by them – lead track Jukebox Generation is infectious beyond belief.
You may say Goldblade don’t break down any barriers, but they have. They have re-opened a closed shop. This isn’t a classic, but I dare say they will do alright out of it.
Mike
