Review: Sex Pistols at Fremantle Prison
Sex Pistols feat. Frank Carter at Fremantle Prison
w/ Civic
Friday, April 11, 2025
“Put your hands together for the greatest punk band in history!”
Never mind the bollocks, here’s Frank Carter. Personally, I’ll take the Dead Kennedys at their peak, but Carter made a fair case on Friday for the Sex Pistols’ legacy as the greatest punks, the heavily tattooed rocker an appropriate ambassador and ringmaster all night.
From the rampaging opener, Holidays in the Sun, Carter was animatedly jumping over and under the Berlin Wall. He even took (drummer) Paul Cook’s vocals on Silly Thing and those of Sid Vicious for My Way during a memorable encore.
But just where was John Lydon? There’s been no mention of him in the press leading up to the shows, and nothing was said on the night. Unlike 1996’s Filthy Lucre reformation shows, this was a tribute that completely ignored his existence.
With the exception, that is, of his words. The lyrics and anarchic misanthropy of Lydon (aka Johnny Rotten circa 1977) were front and centre all night. And his visionary take, calling out the monarchy as “a fascist regime” and really putting the “carnt” in Pretty Vacant, was as familiarly potent as it was in 1977.
The biggest advantage of Carter as frontman was his energy. Acting as if 40 was the new 20, it only took four tracks for him to venture into the crowd, and by the time Bodies rolled around, a memorable circle pit had formed (and a free ride to the front for those of us oldies willing to jump in) as Carter screamed, “She don’t wanna a baby that looks like that!” along to one of the more disturbing abortion songs ever written.
Next to their new bandmate, the original Pistols looked every one of their 68-69 years old but still played with the enthusiasm of young men who were front and centre the year punk broke. There’s still something about seeing Steve Jones light up his Les Paul that’s a pleasure for (old) kids who grew up on his power chords.
Highlights were placed throughout the 75-minute show, with God Save the Queen earlier than expected, while No Feelings, Problems and E.M.I closed off the main set in style. The only flat moments were fights breaking out (“No more fighting,” Carter quipped, “this is a prison for fuck’s sake”), and an inexplicably lacklustre cover of The Stooges’s No Fun.
The encore was truly a well-rehearsed victory lap, with the Frank Sinatra-via-Sid Vicious-via-Frank Carter take on My Way something of an unexpected highlight given it didn’t appear on Never Mind the Bollocks (that record was played in full minus Submission). It left only the song that started a movement, Anarchy In The UK, to close the night on a high most never thought they’d get to experience again.
Melbourners Civic opened the night, blending their love of punk and classic Oz rock a la Beasts of Bourbon. Plying their trade across three albums since 2016, including next month’s Chrome Dipped, they dropped that album’s forthcoming Swing of the Noose to close an appropriately high-energy start to the night.
HARVEY RAE
Photos by Stu McKay
