This Soft Play gig was one I had been looking forward to for a while now. Seeing their surprise sets at Bearded Theory and Boomtown festivals earlier in the year, I had gotten really into them in time for their grand return under the new name Soft Play (was formerly Slaves) and subsequent album release Heavy Jelly.
I got to the venue, The Octagon, early enough to see the phenomenal support from Panic Shack, who’s half-hour set did a brilliant job of warming up the agitated, ready to dance crowd. A big stand out of the set was the brilliant bass playing from Em Smith. The music was punchy, easy to dance to, and proof that good lyrics are not the be-all and end-all of a band (most notably ‘Cos I do jiu jitsu / I’m gonna jiu jits-you bitch’ from the song “Jui Jits You”).
At the end of the set, the sold out 1800-capacity venue really started to pack out, and the air was thick with anticipation. As the tune of “Rattlesnake” by King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard faded out over the PA, the boys arrived in all their glory. To the choric chant of ‘all things bright and beautiful’ they began their set with a punch to the gut, new album opener “All Things”.
The next half hour of their set was littered with new gems, such as the brilliant “Bin Juice Disaster” that contains the brilliant line of ‘my thirty litre pedal bin was filled more than it should have been, why did I keep pushing it down’ and the anthem of the anti-electric-scooter and anti-vape community “Act Violently.”
It was halfway through the set, as they entered my favourite song “Sockets” that I was whisked off my feet and passed forward, crowd surfing my way to the front. There I was grabbed by security and with my arms pinned to my chest, manhandled to the fire exit and chucked out of the venue. Now, it’s easy to blame this on me – “you should have known not to crowd surf” – that is besides the point (regardless of the lack of signage pointing to this rule).
Rock City in Nottingham is a brilliant example of how a venue is lenient with its rules. With clearly stated “no crowd surfing” signs at the front of the stage, this rule is not strictly enforced at every gig: most notably Sex Pistols and Frank Carter last month, where I was passed over the barrier and just let back in round the side at least three times before the concert ended.
The ridiculousness that you could be kicked out of a venue for crowd surfing at a gig hosted by one of the most punk bands on tour at the moment seemed to be not only realised by me, but by the lead singer of the support act Panic Shack (Sarah Harvey) who I ran into outside the venue, while still confused about what had actually just happened. She shared my sentiment on the issue, the man she was with (who worked with the band) remarking that he would go and speak to his tour manager as “this shouldn’t be happening”.
Alas it was to no avail, and I was forced to walk back home alone, wallowing in my self-pity and wondering if punk truly is dead.
Image credit: Soft Play/Spotify
