I'm in the heart of an excitable crowd at the Scala in London's King's Cross. The event is called 'Justice Tonight' and the issue that's driving the event is the Hillsborough disaster of 1989 and the 96 Liverpool fans who died due to the crush at the stadium. This is a rock and roll gig, but it's a remembrance and a call for honour and decent reporting. There have been speeches from trade unionists and from MP Tom Hart, who takes the opportunity to bash a certain newspaper proprietor and the way that his paper covered the tragedy.
'Justice Tonight' has taken this roaring revue to Cardiff, where James from the Manic Street Preachers joined in. In Manchester, the tour was supported by Ian Brown and John Squire from The Stone Roses, who performed 'Elizabeth My Dear' and 'Bankrobber'. And in Sheffield, it was Richard Hawley's turn. Every night has seemed like a revelation and a throw-down, and I had been so sure of the potential of the London night that I booked my flight, rallied with a bunch of old friends and positioned ourselves near the front of the stage.
We knew that The Farm would be there and that 'Altogether Now' would be some kind of affirmative cry. And we were delighted to see Pete Wylie expressing pure essence of Scouse. Magnificent tunes like 'Come Back' and 'Story Of The Blues', street corner soul and undented pride. He sang a fierce song about Margaret Thatcher and people had cheered. And then there was an excellent hand-over as Mick Jones and a bunch of Clash songs were delivered.
The London guitarist is a QPR fan, but he's a mate of Wylie's and has embraced the cause, allowing those amazing songs to ring out again. The likes of 'Train In Vain' and 'Stay Free', which he shares with Pete. After all, it's the story of a lasting pact between friends, and so the fraternal theme suits. It's also a touchstone for the veteran punks in the hall, the notion that personal loyalty and free spirits are valid, still.
Rich from Hard Fi sings 'Clampdown'. Later, Bobby, Barrie and Innes from Primal Scream will charge the particles with 'Rocks', 'Jail Guitar Doors' and a supreme 'Brand New Cadillac'. And on bass guitar, looking gallant and intense, is another Clash legend, Paul Simonon.
He takes the vocal for 'Guns Of Brixton' and we join in, tremendously moved. This is potent music, reapplied to another serious age. The night has become a kind of sounding board, the chance to see if music can still make a righteous noise. In this sense, 'Justice Tonight' is a blazing experiment. There are no records to sell and no record companies to consult. It works on its own terms. And at the front of the stage, some young kids are loving the sentiments, occasionally looking over at us mature fellas, like they need permission to tune in.
This is London calling, and Liverpool responding. And to be truthful, it's been a while since I felt so much alive.
