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NOFX are the punk-rock band that can do no wrong. Where so many of their contemporaries ‘sold-out’ with major label deals, instead they waited patiently until they could choose to ‘buy in’. Now they own the label, they own the tour and as they won’t stop reminding us - they get the cash. Punk veterans, businessmen or alcoholics with ADD; whatever you call them there is no denying that front man Fat Mike and co. command a zealous loyalty amongst their UK fans.
A NOFX show is much like most NOFX albums; a few of the best tunes you’re ever likely to hear pepperered between standard punk filler. So the crowd is treated to the expected renditions of classics ‘Linoleum’ and ‘Dinosaurs Will Die’, a breakneck run through ‘Murder the Government’ and the “oi oi oi” refrain of ‘The Brews’. Then follows the filler; a half dozen comedy false starts to a disastrous ‘Leave It Alone’ and fifteen minutes of ‘The Decline’ which we’re warned beforehand could get really boring (it does).
We get treated to a light reggae cover of ‘Radio’ during which NOFX betray their sloppy façade and reveal that during very rare moments of clarity they can play as a seriously tight unit. Throw in a trumpet solo, some light political/religious baiting and the only thing missing from the white book of workable but tired punk clichés are some fiddle playing fighting Irishmen. Not that they would stand much chance against the kids upfront tonight.
Through every song NOFX bounce and joke around like men 20 years their junior and we join them for every last power chord. Fat Mike and guitarist El Hefe exchange quips like high school juniors who have just discovered beer, then launch into ‘The Quass’ and the crowd heaves in response. It’s hard to tell what the roadies have been slipping in Fat Mike’s drink whenever his back is turned, but it kicks in hard. A dozen ‘last songs’ fly past in the dying seconds and this perfectly shambolic punk-rock show falls drunkenly to a close.
