Adam Ant’s mum used to be Paul McCartney’s cleaner. His support act at tonight’s gig is Georgie Girl And Her Poussez Posse. It’s pronounced ‘Pussy Posse’, according to Les, the friendly Adam Ant devotee I met at tonight’s gig. Let’s face it, no matter how much you French it up, ‘Pussy Posse’ sounds like the kind of moniker that legendary hip-hop smut merchant Luke Campbell would have come up with for his Two Live Crew. They are fronted by Georgina Baillie, who first came to the public’s attention after the Sachsgate hysteria caused when her then boyfriend Russell Brand, along with Jonathan Ross, caused tabloid outrage after leaving puerile voice messages on the answering machine belonging to her grandfather, actor Andrew Sachs of Fawlty Towers fame.
She’d probably like us to forget that, and focus on her music. Rightly so, because despite the frankly rubbish band name, their brand of burlesque punk is full of solid, dirty, rock riffs and tight playing. At times reminding me of 1980s pop/punk act Transvison Vamp and the groovy, psyche-tinged art-metal rockers Underneath What?, The Posse play an entertaining and interesting
set. Admittedly, some of the songs tend to blur into one, without enough changes in tempo and style, and their cover of Alice Cooper’s ‘Only Women Bleed’ was grim and rather obvious. However, Georgina has a strong voice, clever lyrics and the Posse are a take-no-prisoners, brutal, riff-tastic band. Ignore the slightly unfair media lambasting that Georgie Girl received after Sachsgate – her band have masses of potential, and are worthy of further investigation.
I’m not overly familiar with Adam Ant‘s music. Of course, I know all the obvious hits – ‘Prince Charming’, ‘Stand And Deliver’ and so forth – but unlike the clearly devoted attendees (most of whom are decked out in black lacy gloves, face paint and leather) I lay no claim to being a fan.
Speaking to some of the audience beforehand I was reliably informed that Adam’s last appearance at Oxford’s O2 was amazing. Waves of genuine excitement ripple through the crowd, and adoration for Adam Ant becomes immediately apparent. After a great tape intro – a five-minute segment from an old biker movie – two drummers make their entrance too and begin energetic, tribal drumming.
The rest of the band take the stage and launch into a blistering ‘Press Darlings’, followed by equally brilliant versions of ‘Dog Eat Dog’, ‘Beat My Guest’ and ‘Kick’. There isn’t much in the way of stage banter; just the occasional ‘thank you’. What he lacks in storytelling Adam makes up for with energy and swagger. I’m taken aback by the startlingly original and fresh sound that he and his band created, and the dude is a star. Dressed in pirate garb and spectacles, Adam strikes all of the classic rock star poses, using the mic stand to great effect, and his vocal range is impressive: the boy can yodel like a good ‘un!
‘Kings Of The Wild Frontier’ is particularly powerful, with a fierce punk energy – it’s surprising how much of a hard punk edge there is to tonight’s set. I had never taken Adam Ant’s music that seriously, and just thought he was a fairly interesting pop star. Tonight’s gig leaves me convinced that Adam is a whole lot more Punk Rock than other, more fêted punk royalty. The powerful two hour gig rarely lets up, with the performance of a 28-song setlist. The only missteps are a petulant mic throwing incident; weak new song ‘Cool Zone’ – which in places is a straight rip-off of Hendrix’s version of ‘Hey Joe'; and the cringe-inducing and unnecessary reference to mummy porn novel Fifty Shades Of Grey before ‘Whip’.
A very enjoyable, high energy gig, and a reminder that the much-maligned 1980s did produce some wonderful music. Although I’m still not quite an Ant devotee, I’m a confirmed admirer, and now convinced that Adam Ant may well be Britain’s last truly great pop star.