Rocker (feedbot)
Platinum Member
Refused, as they so eloquently put it, are fucking dead. Tonight might be their final UK show of their farewell tour, but this no solemn evening. Rather, this is a celebration of musical lives lived without compromise, a punk gig in a huge former theatre that feels like a basement show with the power, intimacy and immediacy that has been the hallmark of the Swedes’ career.
As the opening of ‘Poetry Written In Gasoline’ cracks open the darkness of Brixton Academy, we’re strangely rooted on the spot, even as frontman Dennis Lyxzén jumps and skips in his frilly scarlet shirt, flipping the bird on the rasping lines that mark the chorus. Seeing Refused onstage feels like a memory even though it’s happening in front of us, blurred and filtered through dry ice, and our stillness is a mark of respect and focus as much as it is representative of the average age of the crowd. It’s a calm before the storm though, as ‘The Shape Of Punk To Come’ forces fists holding half empty plastic glasses into the sky with a heart pounding singalong like a protest call, all battleground bass and juddering riffs.
While they might have aged, Refused are still the political hardcore act they’ve always been at their heart. Lyxzén speaks out in support of Kneecap and other political artists – “If you see shit that’s wrong, speak out!” – and his firebrand views bolster us into a raging pit for ‘Rather Be Dead’. When they start pulling the hardcore thread that’s run through tonight to see what unravels on ‘Circle Pit’, they create a thing of beauty; dirty and blunt with so much bass. “Sometimes I think what could have been if we followed that path,” muses Lyxzén, revelling in the pit chaos he’s created. We’re richer for the choices that his band have made over the years though as they pose through the rock end of their sound on ‘Elektra’, and we’re given no chances to miss Refused just yet. Their banner unfurls across the backdrop as our phone bolt out of our pockets to catch the opening of ‘New Noise’, any remaining stoicism in the crowd dissolving as we scream with righteous fervour.
Feedback left to run onstage ushers us into the encore, and ‘It’s Not O.K’ is so devastatingly on point with a bluntness that hammers in every direction at once. The way Refused manage to make this space feel so small and personal is a joy, and the last surfers tumble even as the house lights rise. Finishing a show, and a career, with the line “I’ll have my coup d’etat” is absolutely iconic, and the image of the flaming frontman poised with his fist raised on that sentiment is one that will linger in punk history.
Of course, it’s bittersweet to say goodbye to Refused. They’ve vowed to return as a new band, with exactly the same lineup, so perhaps they haven’t completely dipped over the punk horizon, but to finish this project on such a high? It’s incredible, and a testament to the band’s lasting legacy on the scene.
KATE ALLVEY
As the opening of ‘Poetry Written In Gasoline’ cracks open the darkness of Brixton Academy, we’re strangely rooted on the spot, even as frontman Dennis Lyxzén jumps and skips in his frilly scarlet shirt, flipping the bird on the rasping lines that mark the chorus. Seeing Refused onstage feels like a memory even though it’s happening in front of us, blurred and filtered through dry ice, and our stillness is a mark of respect and focus as much as it is representative of the average age of the crowd. It’s a calm before the storm though, as ‘The Shape Of Punk To Come’ forces fists holding half empty plastic glasses into the sky with a heart pounding singalong like a protest call, all battleground bass and juddering riffs.
While they might have aged, Refused are still the political hardcore act they’ve always been at their heart. Lyxzén speaks out in support of Kneecap and other political artists – “If you see shit that’s wrong, speak out!” – and his firebrand views bolster us into a raging pit for ‘Rather Be Dead’. When they start pulling the hardcore thread that’s run through tonight to see what unravels on ‘Circle Pit’, they create a thing of beauty; dirty and blunt with so much bass. “Sometimes I think what could have been if we followed that path,” muses Lyxzén, revelling in the pit chaos he’s created. We’re richer for the choices that his band have made over the years though as they pose through the rock end of their sound on ‘Elektra’, and we’re given no chances to miss Refused just yet. Their banner unfurls across the backdrop as our phone bolt out of our pockets to catch the opening of ‘New Noise’, any remaining stoicism in the crowd dissolving as we scream with righteous fervour.
Feedback left to run onstage ushers us into the encore, and ‘It’s Not O.K’ is so devastatingly on point with a bluntness that hammers in every direction at once. The way Refused manage to make this space feel so small and personal is a joy, and the last surfers tumble even as the house lights rise. Finishing a show, and a career, with the line “I’ll have my coup d’etat” is absolutely iconic, and the image of the flaming frontman poised with his fist raised on that sentiment is one that will linger in punk history.
Of course, it’s bittersweet to say goodbye to Refused. They’ve vowed to return as a new band, with exactly the same lineup, so perhaps they haven’t completely dipped over the punk horizon, but to finish this project on such a high? It’s incredible, and a testament to the band’s lasting legacy on the scene.
KATE ALLVEY