Do you know who CKY are? I didn’t. I vaguely remember their logo and had them firmly placed in my head as being part of the post-grunge American punk explosion of the late 90s. Not familiar with their output but doing my homework like a good little reviewer I thought they would be loud, shouty, brash, fast-paced and funny. After all, the drummer is Bam Margera’s brother, so they had to be a little bit Jackass, right? Nope. The first and most obvious thing about them tonight was that they are not really a band any more. These days they are just said drummer, a guitarist/vocalist and a handful of backing tapes. Don’t get me wrong, this can work. I mean Jack White did alright in The White Stripes, and if ever you fancy some primal, raw music do have a look at The Picturebooks from Germany. Tonight however CKY weren’t really doing it for me. For a start, where I was the sound was not the best. It did vary a little as you moved about the venue but really when you only have two musicians up on the stage you need if not crystal clarity then at least to be able to hear the vocals, and it just wasn’t happening. They did however have a small but enthusiastic following down on the floor who were bouncing to every note, so perhaps it was just my lofty position on the balcony where it was an issue?

The music then. Loud, uncompromising. Lots of fuzz, distortion and feedback. The odd glimpse of melody. It wasn’t bad, it just wasn’t really my thing. I was finding that every song started with a really great riff then kind of faded into a wall of sound, taking my interest away with it. Somehow I doubt I will be rushing to purchase their back catalogue but as openers they were OK. Probably better visually than aurally for me though.

CKY at the O2 Ritz in Manchester on January 31st 2020 ©Johann Wierzbicki | ROCKFLESH

In another lifetime, when writing for a different website, I was once given a Backyard Babies album to review. It coincided with a trip to That London on a coach, so headphones on and notebook in hand I settled down to listen. I was intending to commit to paper my erudite and insightful thoughts. By the time I got to Victoria, my notebook basically said “Fuck Yeah!” and contained lots of doodles of cats. Tonight was a bit like déjà vu. I was going to do a complete setlist, I was going to do a potted history of the band, I was going to describe their showmanship, songwriting and audience interaction. I honestly was. But then they started, and I went “Fuck Yeah!” again and bounced and danced along to the music because I love the Backyard Babies. I love their sound, I love their attitude, I love their look, I love their Swedish accents but most of all I love their songs. They are raw, and nasty, and dirty, and sleazy, but also beautiful and catchy and full of feeling. Highlight for me were the amazing cowbell-filled ‘13 Or Nothing’, the acoustic-tastic heartstring-tugging ‘Painkiller’ and ‘Minus Me Minus You’ which is the best pop-rock song ever written by someone who isn’t Ginger Wildheart. Superb. Fuck Yeah!

Backyard Babies at the O2 Ritz in Manchester on January 31st 2020 ©Johann Wierzbicki | ROCKFLESH

On to The Wildhearts then. Still riding high on the success of last year’s album “Renaissance Men” and the follow-up mini-album “Diagnosis”, they seem to spend every minute of every day on tour these days. They probably rank pretty high in my personal list of bands I have seen the most times over the years, but that’s OK because they are a band with many sides and watching them is rarely dull. There are sometimes bad shows because Ginger’s health is not always 100%, but I’m happy to report that tonight despite Ginger’s lurgy they did not disappoint. Coming on to a recording of crowd-pleasing singalong “Don’t Worry Bout Me” they blast straight into ‘Everlone’ and the pace is frenetic. The crowd is jumping, and so is the band. ‘Diagnosis’ follows, and has the distinction of being both the newest but also the most classic Wildheartish Wildhearts track you could ever wish for. The energy is manic, the hooks are so big you could catch whales with them. I will never for the life of me understand why this band, despite a devoted fanbase, are not megastars.

Tonight we get something of a greatest hits set, so ‘Vanilla Radio’ and their paean to 80s flat/squatsharing ‘Greetings From Shitsville’ follow. Both are upbeat, fun and frantic, both are performed with gusto by the band and enjoyed hugely by the crowd. New song ‘Let ‘em Go’ is all set to become yet another Wildies classic, with its singalong chorus of “let the shit-filled rivers flow” – yep, throw that negativity out of your life friends. Talking of lyrical genius, after a quick romp through ‘The Revolution Will Be Televised’ we get a spirited rendition of ‘TV Tan’ and the cutting riffage of ‘Top Of The World’. There’s a change of pace for ‘Dislocated’ as the band show off their harder, heavier side but it doesn’t last long as they finish the main set with ‘Sick Of Drugs’. A brief further chorus of “Don’t Worry” and they are back to end the evening on a high with ‘29 Times The Pain’ and finally ‘I Wanna Go’ – they went on Top Of The Pops with that one you know! The Wildhearts do have a habit of asking fans to choose songs for the setlist and to be fair if they had asked me tonight’s would have been pretty much exactly what I would have asked for. So cheers guys, another cracking set from a cracking band left the whole venue with smiles all round. On form I think it’s fair to say that The Wildhearts are one of the best live bands you can possibly see, and tonight they weren’t just on form, they were on fire.