Punks In Portland: Buzzcocks

By Christian Lipski

Berbati’s Pan, Portland OR
June 1, 2010

Even if it’s in print, it’s not always true. The concert ticket said eight o’clock, but once we got to the club, a sign indicated that opening band The Dollyrots would start at nine. Inconsistently, the ticket was right about the door time, so from seven until nine I had plenty of time to take in my surroundings.

Berbati’s Pan is a wide room, with the stage and main bar sharing the length of the back wall. A backup bar flanks the stage on the left-hand wall, and with Voodoo Doughnuts next door, patrons do not want for vices. The two-hour wait was made slightly more pleasant by the selection of ’80s-era metal coming from the sound system. The crowd was split right down the middle: new fans, still passionate in their black and punkened attire, and the original fans, dressed for comfort and not for style, with a “Been There, Done That” air. I guess if you flew your colors when the music was new, you get a pass when it comes back.

The Dollyrots stumbled onto the stage on time, a three-piece ensemble fronted by bass player Kelly Ogden. Ogden, clad in taffetta tutu and bullet belt, knew how to rock the bass while she sneered into the mic. The Dollyrots have a simple, fun style, as if the Ramones, Transvision Vamp, and Josie & the Pussycats had a baby. But they’re not just three-chord machines; several of their songs had actual modulations in them, a la Barry Manilow. Pretty profssional stuff.

Their covers (“Brand New Key,” “Bad Reputation,” an a capella version of the Growing Pains theme song) fit their style perfectly. Although it was their twentieth show supporting the Buzzcocks, they still seemed to be having a great time, interacting with the crowd (“This is not a strip club—I know, I’m in Portland”). Ogden revealed that she had been given the nickname “Jelly” by the headliners, although it might also be “Smelly” depending on the situation, and announced that she could finally say with confidence that their new album, California Beach Boy, would be coming out in the next couple of months. A great show from this exciting band.

After the high energy of the opener faded, we entered the deadly space between bands, where excitement becomes antsiness, and passions (assisted by booze) run wild. The area in front of the stage was a jungle filled with danger and adventure, and the bouncers did their work swiftly and accurately. The once-pleasant ’80s metal began to run afoul of the waiting mob, and disaster was averted only by the arrival of the Buzzcocks, also right on schedule.

The band have just re-released their first two albums, Another Music In A Different Kitchen and Love Bites, and played both of them in their entirety. With a “One Two Three Four,” they were off and running. Lead singer Pete Shelley and guitarist Steve Diggle are the original members, and they were a study in opposites: Shelley as the serious, angry poet and Diggle as the Marxian clown, reveling in his anarchy. Throughout the show, Diggle never stopped bouncing around the stage, while Shelley remained at the mic or facing his amp. Rounding out the quartet were Chris Remmington on bass and Danny Farrant on drums. Both new members performed very well, and Farrant’s drum solo (surprising, since solos are not in vogue, and moreso for a punk band) was a treat. It’s live that you can feel the Buzzcocks’ punk soul—Shelley’s vocals were snarled and yelled, resembling John Lydon’s Pistol-era sound, which is what inspired Shelley to start a band in the first place. The energy was high and non-stop as song after song tumbled out of the speakers.

“Ever Fallen in Love (with Someone You Shouldn’t’ve)” was easy to spot, not just from the crowd reaction, but because it stood out from the rest of the set, having a much more melodic construction. Not to say that it didn’t sound like a Buzzcocks song, though; Shelley’s voice was just as fitted for the tune that night as it was in 1978. The same could be said for “What Do I Get” and “Orgasm Addict,” which were saved for the encore. Perhaps it was because they were more familiar to me, but I suspect the band took a little more care to craft hooky melodies back in the day, and were therefore more apt to sing rather than shout them live.

Nearly two hours after it had begun, the show was over, and Portland had seen a little bit of what real punk music was like. The Buzzcocks kept it very real, and it was a very welcome thing to hear.