When two seminal bands converge on one stage, it creates a moment etched into rock lore, a bucket-list-worthy event for any self-respecting punk music enthusiast. Enter Generation Sex—a potent blend of punk rock titans, uniting the snarling vocal prowess of Billy Idol, the impeccable rhythm of Paul Cook, the blistering guitar licks of Steve Jones, and the ultra-cool bass grooves of Tony James.
I had the opportunity to catch them live at the Dog Day Afternoon show in London, a daytime festival gig they shared with the likes of Iggy Pop and Blondie. Yet, I consciously decided against it. Outdoor day gigs, with their potential for compromised sound quality, flat photography, and the sheer incongruity of enjoying legendary punk under a blazing sun, are far from my ideal concert experience.
Hence, I decided to place my bet on a different event entirely. After reading several polarizing reviews about Generation Sex’s festival performances, I was convinced that they deserved to be seen in a proper theatre setting which could offer the intensity that their music demanded. This led me to the Manchester Apollo, where they were slated to perform on the final night of their UK tour. It was a bit of a gamble, but it paid off grandly.
On stage, Generation Sex was a force to be reckoned with. They looked and sounded superb, and their chemistry was palpable, indicating that they were more than just a makeshift supergroup. They synergized, fed off each other’s energy, and absolutely fucking smashed it.
Billy Idol, a bonafide rock icon, defied his 67 years with a vitality that would put many twenty-something musicians to shame. His signature snarl and scream, still as powerful as ever, grew more potent as the night went on. His renditions of the Pistols’ classics like “Pretty Vacant,” “Bodies,” “Problems,” and “God Save the Queen” were sublime. There was no mimicry of Lydon here, just pure Idol, commanding and purposeful.
Witnessing Steve Jones play a Steve Stevens riff on “Dancing with Myself” was a surreal experience. It wasn’t exactly an unexpected moment, given Jones’s versatile musical talent, but hearing a Sex Pistols guitarist delivering a piece closely associated with Stevens was somewhat uncanny in its context.
Would “Rebel Yell” have been a more fitting choice? Perhaps. But there was an undeniable magic in hearing “Dancing with Myself” reverberate from Jones’s guitar. It was a transcendent instance where history met the present, leaving me spellbound with a pint in hand amidst the electrifying atmosphere of the Manchester Apollo. Though it wouldn’t be fair to label it the best show I’ve ever attended, this performance of Generation Sex has firmly cemented itself as one of my all-time favorites.
Paul Cook, an indisputable powerhouse on the drums, commanded the rhythmic backbone of the show with unwavering precision and energy. But his performance was not just an exhibition of his rock-solid drumming skills. For the keen ear, it was also a subtle nod to his past collaborations with Steve Jones in The Professionals.
Several songs from the night’s setlist echoed the transition from Sex Pistols to The Professionals, a period that Cook and Jones shared. It was fascinating to witness these songs, shaped by their joint past, given new life by Generation Sex. This interweaving of their shared history and present collaboration solidified the authenticity and depth of the performance, further underscoring the enduring strength of their musical partnership.
The setlist was a mix of Generation X classics with a generous sprinkling of Sex Pistols hits. However, the real magic lay in the somewhat lesser-known tracks from The Great Rock n Roll Swindle, namely “Black Leather” and “Silly Thing.” The fitting inclusion of “My Way” and “I’m Not Your Stepping Stone” provided the perfect full stop to a setlist that skillfully straddled the nostalgic and the novel.
In a nutshell, Generation Sex’s performance at the Manchester Apollo was a masterclass in punk-rock showmanship. It underscored their enduring relevance and was a powerful celebration of punk’s timeless spirit. This was truly a night that rewarded my bet and redefined the quintessential punk experience.
