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The Guardian - UK
The Guardian - UK
Entertainment
Matt Mills

Rancid review – pure punk rock creates arena-scale moshpit

More than just noise for noise’s sake … Tim Armstrong of Rancid performing at Wembley Arena.
More than just noise for noise’s sake … Tim Armstrong of Rancid performing at Wembley Arena. Photograph: Awais Butt

Back in April, Rancid announced they were moving their London show from the closed Brixton Academy to the twice-as-big Wembley Arena out of necessity, and their social media were bombarded with punk-rocker tantrums. “£43 to watch Rancid sound like they’re in a cave?” one Facebook comment complained. “No thanks!”

Admittedly, as the Berkeley-based rebels play in this 10,000-capacity cavern – with curtains at the back to hide the unsold seats – their anthems don’t boot you in the chest the way they would in some grimy yet intimate basement. But Rancid have always been about more than simply making noise for noise’s sake. Many of their songs are mid-paced tunes that you can dance and swagger to, while the likes of Time Bomb and Tenderloin have legitimate pop prowess: even people who have never heard them before will have those choruses memorised by the end.

As a result, what tonight lacks in sonic muscle is more than compensated for by arena-wide enthusiasm. Second song Roots Radicals lurches Wembley back to the 1995 genre-classic album And Out Came the Wolves, the chords and snarling vocals being met by a front half of the venue that refuses to stay still. “Give ’em the boot! The roots! The radicals!” guitarist/vocalist Lars Frederiksen shouts, but is impressively drowned out by thousands of punk rock faithfuls singing the same hook.

Rancid haven’t compromised their DIY aesthetic for the larger crowd, either. Although Frederiksen lets out an amazed “Yo, fellas! We just played Wembley!” before bursting into finale Ruby Soho, no pyro or pageantry marks the occasion. Instead, there’s a simple black backdrop and some amps, while friends and fans (including UK Subs singer Charlie Harper) stand on-stage, very much in plain view. It truly and simply feels like a punk rock show inflated – especially when hardcore oldie Rejected incites a monumental mosh pit down the front.

If you’re one of those people who saw Rancid were getting relocated to Wembley and flogged your ticket, you missed an evening of victory. The band entered their first UK arena headliner as underdogs not supposed to be there, yet triumphed all the same. And is there anything more punk than that?

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