BlondieRecently hearing You Am I covering (I'm) Stranded by The Saints at Queenscliff Music Festival, we anticipate hearing it thrashed out by OG vocalist Chris Bailey. With well-educated articulation, the frontman announces he's honoured to play at “the start of what will be a superlative night's entertainment” and all four players onstage, including ex-Thirsty Merc guitarist Sean Carey and keyboardist Andy Judd, clearly get a kick out of nailing these songs. Longtime drummer Peter Wilkinson alternates between sticks and mallets, creating a seamless backbone for songs off new album King Of The Sun as well as old faves such as Just Like Fire Would and the rousing Ghost Ships. Tonight is a celebration of punk, so The Saints are sinners for not playing (I'm) Stranded, especially when allowing a segment of Kylie's I Should Be So Lucky into the mix.
It's satisfying to see some opportunistic old farts storming the front section for The Stranglers (minus main man Hugh Cornwall). One such rowdy bloke yells lyrics in this scribe's face, a pity it's the spoken word outro from Burning Up Time (“Hello, little girl/Are you on your own?/Does your mummy know where you are?/Would you like a sweetie?”). Ol' mate then stresses he means no harm (none taken) and then we watch as he begs security to let him remain down the front once it's discovered he's migrated from row 'T'. Golden Brown reminds us of our childhood and the rippling harpsichord melody with alternating time signature has lost none of its lustre. Replacement vocalist Baz Warne announces, “We're playing a gig tomorrow night at Billboard. Does anyone know where that is?” (A few scattered hollers.) ”Well we'll see about a half a dozen of you there then,” he chuckles. Keys genius Dave Greenfield coughs a few times and is then sure to take few purposeful gulps of beverage before his next featured part. Always The Sun is a glorious slice of singalong nostalgia, but it's Peaches that takes us there via Jean-Jacques Burnel's gritty, distinctive bassline. Warne doesn't shy away from overemphasising “clitoris” within lyrical content either. A cracking set that sees many on their feet and even includes an inspired cover of All Day And All Of The Night by The Kinks.
The usherette tips us off that Ron Jeremy's watching from the side balcony and then we later notice she's sharing this news with anyone in earshot. As Blondie's equipment, including a drum screen, is set up on stage, excitement fizzes. We're immediately propelled into Dreaming, thanks to Clem Burke's pummelling drumming. Debbie Harry could not be wearing an inch more gold lame and a cleverly designed sheer bodysuit under gold singlet is extremely flattering for a woman of her age. She looks fantastic in her spiky platinum wig with brushed forward piece and her voice is in great shape. Hanging On The Telephone gets us moving and we mimic Harry's sidestepping prowess. To look around and see so many smiling, captivated faces dancing up a storm to these influential songs is a sight to behold, framed by the bowl. Burke sports a CBGB's T-shirt and flings (then drops) his sticks behind that acoustic shield. Most Blondie song lengths are short and sharp and Rapture was always gonna abduct our hips and imaginations. Harry's insouciant rapping style has lost none of its poignancy. Homage is paid to The Beastie Boys when No Sleep Till Brooklyn is belted out within this disco classic. Chris Stein still has the wah-wah chops. Kicking off the encore with a cover of Relax by Frankie Goes To Hollywood, we are far from chill. The schweppervescent synths of Heart Of Glass place us on an obstacle course to bliss and we could happily soak up these vibes all night long. Those Blondie basslines will never get old. Harry is and always will be fierce.
