“We’re fabulous”: 1MU at Rebellion ’25, Day 2
I felt like a complete prat turning up every day with a COVID mask covering half my face. But I was committed. After all, punk’s not dead—maybe it wore PPE too.
1MU at Rebellion ‘25. ©dickslaughter.com
Knuckleheadz at Rebellion ‘25. ©dickslaughter.com
Friday began with the Knuckleheadz taking to the Empress Ballroom stage. I’m not sure what else there is to say about them that hasn’t already been said on the pages of this here website, but I will make two observations: 1) it clearly feels like they’ve earned their place on this stage, and 2) the Pope seemed to enjoy it.
Across at the Opera House, the Molly Vulpyne Band presented a curious blend – the slight country twang of the Irish frontwoman’s voice, dialled back from the ferocity of her work in punk duo The Vulpynes, and the noise-punk backing of her accompanying band. No less an authority than John Robb described the sound as “neo-Dolly Parton melodic noise”, and that feels like the right placement for her. Very enjoyable.
Perrybois at Rebellion ‘25. ©dickslaughter.com
Baba of The Bois at Rebellion ‘25. ©1MU
They were followed by 2 bands, both from Asia, and with easily muddled names – on the RIS In Pavilion stage, Indonesia’s Perrybois (as profiled by our own Dick Slaughter); and in the Arena, Singapore’s The Bois. Both bands seem heavily inspired by the ‘80s English Oi! sound, though for me, Perrybois had the edge by not only mixing things up with a combination of English and Indonesian lyrics, but by daring to call one of their songs ‘We Are Family’. Sister Sledge fans might want to steer clear of that one.
Despite the group ending activities in 2012, Chumbawamba have had a great Rebellion ‘25. I missed Boff Whalley’s set on the Literary stage on Thursday, which is a shame, as a glance at his recent tome ‘But: Life Isn't Like That, Is It?’ reveals a highly experimental writing style that brings concrete poetry to mind, and I’d have loved to have seen how he performed this. However, after only catching the tail end of last year’s set, I was determined to see Interrobang‽ in full this year.
Dunstan Bruce of loud-hailing for Gaza. ©1MU
Fronted by the man who once sang, “I get knocked down, but I get up again”, Dunstan Bruce’s agitprop trio walk out to the sounds of Peter Finch’s Howard Beale screaming, “I’m as mad as hell, and I’m not going to take this any longer.” If you’ve not seen ‘Network’, maybe skip this sentence for spoilers, but Beale’s sincere cry of rage turns into a meme, then a marketable slogan sold by a ruthless media to a willing public. Mirroring Beale’s arc in the film, the set seems to begin with Bruce thrashing against his own impotence to change anything. But this is just the start of a journey, taking in a search for solutions (“we gotta rethink everything”) and provocations to use “creativity (as) a weapon”. Here, their creativity takes the form of electronic post-punk, Bruce’s distinctive spoken style accompanying and often mirroring samples held together by guitarist and sound-wrangler Stephen Griffin. To use a crude comparison, Interrobang‽ is to Big Audio Dynamite what Chumbawamba were to The Clash. I mean this as the highest praise – their set was fantastic. The musical journey ends on a defiant note that, despite everything happening in the world, “we’re fabulous”.
Dunstan Bruce of Interrobang‽ at Rebellion ‘25. © Phil Thorns
In other words: they’ve been knocked down, but they’ll get up again.
Chumbawamba at Rebellion ‘25. ©1MU
Bruce was back on stage an hour later, joining the other 6 members of the original lineup of Chumbawamba on the Literary stage, alongside Paranoid Visions guitarist and “world’s biggest Chumbawamba fan” Peter Jones. Across a whistle-stop hour, the group reminisced over their non-musical beginnings; finding their voice through a combination of Crass and the realisation they were having too much fun to mirror that band’s rage; a career’s worth of accusations of selling out; John Prescott; Boff running on stage naked with Smashing Pumpkins; why dance music became the new punk; taking money from advertisers and giving it to activist collectives; and across 30 years, somehow maintaining democracy and friendship. It’s hard to imagine their story beginning in 2025, but it was a delight to hear it in the present.
Sumwot at Rebellion ‘25. © Phil Thorns
Skinhawk at Rebellion ‘25. © Phil Thorns
Around the Chumbawamba-adjacent experience, I took in a couple of bands at the RIS In Pavilion stage – Wolverhampton’s Sumwot, and Reading’s Skinhawk – both very angry at the state of the world, despite (or perhaps because of?) their young ages. I was particularly impressed by one of Skinhawk’s songs, about being in a shitty job, which combines gravelly vocals with a post-punk, psychedelic dub sound that I very much appreciated.
Dave Dictor of MDC at Rebellion ‘25. ©dickslaughter.com
One band that never seemed to lose their edge, even after 46 years, is Oregon’s MDC. And before they even play a single note in Club Casbah, frontman Dave Dictor is clear that they really have something to be angry about now, having arrived in the UK from Trump’s America. Across a ferocious and tight 25 minutes, 25 of my favourite of the whole festival, these legends of hardcore still sound as urgent as ever, their points of reference brought right up to the minute with the kind of comments that, had the BBC “accidentally” live-streamed them, would have seen them end up on the front pages of several national newspapers in the weeks that followed.
Anti-Nowhere League at Rebellion ‘25. ©dickslaughter.com
Aoife Destruction at Rebellion ‘25. © Phil Thorns
Last year I failed to review Anti Nowhere League, on account of the pit being far too boisterous for me to take notes. This year, I stood a little further back in the ballroom, hoping to provide something a little more meaningful this time. My first observation – Animal has Noel Edmonds’ hair. My second – the misanthropy on display in their songs is both unrepentant and, thanks to a crowd of thousands engaging in call and response, transcendentally joyous. It would be easy to critique their lyrics as simplistic, but sometimes it can pass through that definition and into anthemic. And hearing a crowd of thousands chanting, “so what, so what, you boring little cunt,” felt quite epic. I only ducked out towards the end to catch another member of Paranoid Visions and her band, Aoife Destruction & The Nilz, deliver a set of hugely enjoyable Irish thrash.
The Undertones at Rebellion ‘25. © John Greenwood
Back in the Ballroom, The Undertones’ road crew played the riff from ‘Teenage Kicks.’ They clearly knew what the people were there for. Unlike many of their fellow performers, the band walked on stage without fanfare nor theatrics – a statement that they’re confident enough in their songbook and their performance that they don’t need to piss about. So confident were they, their signature hit came less than halfway into their set – a delightful and high-octane hour that even the Ramones might have struggled to keep pace with.
TV Smith at Rebellion ‘25. ©dickslaughter.com
My evening ended in the Arena for my second year in a row of TV Smith and Vom Ritchie. While I preferred their acoustic set-up from last year, the duo still provided a fun end to my day, giving me the energy post-midnight to trudge back to my Airbnb, tossing my mask in the bin on the way.
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