We got into The Hope & Anchor just in time for the start of Virvon Varvon's set, having been named after a Finnish Witches spell this 5 piece like to keep things a touch mysterious, like the last time we saw them at the Hope & Anchor, opening for The Pandoras, the singer never got on stage, leaving that to the 4 blokes in the band, they opened with Red Flag an angry Hardcore rampage of anger, Let's Rip kept the intensity and the lanky guitarist was pulling some mean moves to get the right amount of distortion. They kept hearing Voices telling them to be more hardcore, thankfully they were both tighter and more chaotic than last time we saw them.
They made fun of the band's name and how no one can say it right before I'm A Fuse that seemed ready to explode, no matter how much they told us too, not sure everyone was ready to Listen to Virvon Varvon, still at least this time when they sang about the weekend it was actually the Weekend, the Woman turned into a town crier on I Say I Say I Say. They made clear what they thought of Balaclava wearing idiots on Shut Your Fucking Trap it was a succinct takedown of anti-immigrant nonsense, coming from a band with an international pedigree it was right on point. The claim I'm A Victim felt like they were using it to connect with most of the world, that feels like victims of the current system.
Trouble was full of hardcore rage and splenetic guitars, We go seemed even quicker than much of the set, they closed with Jersey Swamp about the bearded guitarists hometown, and it featured some great howling screams from the other guitarist who really went nuts rolling on the stage.
Next on were The Phobics who opened by dedicating the first song to the late great Mr Cheetah Chrome, My Best Friend Is Dead saw the first scintillating guitar rave up from Tyrone, even if his guitar was never loud enough it was a fitting tribute. Hang Ten was speedy and had no jangling. Gentrification was dedicated to the Hounslow punks and always makes sense in London when played in what used to be a cheap neighbourhood, that's now unaffordable for most us to live, Tom's vocals sounds properly bitter.
Like A Child was not in a Jimmy Saville style thankfully, more a plea to keep a sense of childhood wonder at the world, Jeff's guitar was the perfect foil for what Tyrone was doing. Tom was soon in a Dreamworld where the cool people are in charge and we all get to have a good time; I Can Tell had a super solid bassline from Moyni while it flew by us. They made sure we knew we were at a Punk Rock Show with Tom taking off his jacket so we could see his Get Off The Fucking Phone Johnny Thunders T-shirt properly. Tom then advised us that we could all Make It If You Try, well of course but you have to try real hard. Jeff and Moyni seemed to lead us into Path Of Love like men on a mission.
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Gimme Cyanide seems to have grown in meaning since they first played it, a song for our current times and full of the pains of modern times. On Fire sizzled nicely with Tyrone really flying with Charlie's drums fanning the flames. Tom gave a shout out to any Nearly Men in the audience. When Your Dead was dedicated to Bob Bysox whose funeral was earlier in the day. In My Street was full of sly observations and spiky guitars before they closed like normal by revving things up on Burnt Rubber with its Stooges steals a good greasy end to the set.
Then finally it was time for Swedish garage grunge rockers The OhNos to rip it up, they opened with Message a grungy howl about last summer and what happened, all built around Malin's super solid drumming, Pink Flag seemed to almost be a theme song with lots of OhNo's in the lyrics Anna and Asa were shouting and screaming out. They then made clear they are out looking for trouble like always in Malmo city at the weekend, like a female Stry & Stripparna they weren't stopping till they had their fill.
They then got quite spacey on Universe that had a good Muffs meets Little Hell sound with a little bit of Pink Champagne thrown in, to give it that Swedish twist. They then claimed they were as dry as a Desert with Sanna's bass really locking into Malin's drumming. They took us all down to hell on Bucket with the guitars getting grungier and nastier in that big black hole that was opening up. Gravity saw them trying to be grounded while totally ripping it up. They then closed the set by instructing all the men to Kiss My Boots, I’m pretty sure there were a few willing volunteers to provide this service. They got a well-deserved encore that was appropriately enough Final Call as they all needed more beer and cider to celebrate the bands current Uk tour.
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