FRANK TURNER AT THE EPSY GERSHWIN | LIVE REVIEW
Words by Sofia Perica.
The espy was filled to the brim as I crammed my way through to get a beer in preparation for Frank Turner’s set, which I knew was going to be a wild ride. According to reviews, he has this stage presence that captures a kind of ‘punk spirit’ that is electrifying to see live. He steps on stage with a British charm that is both edgy and incredibly classy as he screams, “MELBOURNE, HOW THE FUCK ARE WE DOING?”
He is able to incorporate an authentic, folk energy with this acoustic-driven punk rock; a beautiful concoction of folk-infused punk. The Sleeping Souls really enhance this – they balance Turners’ raw vocals with punchy instrumentation of guitar and drums. As he opened with No Thank You For The Music, he set some ground rules - underlying that he may be punk, but he doesn’t want you to be a dickhead, and if you know the words, sing along. Frank Turner is no bullshit artist – that he was genuine from the get-go, seeking to connect with the audience, even if it’s just to have a bloody good time with them. He balances being emotional and insightful in his music with the classic British piss-take edge so well.
It wouldn’t be a Frank Turner performance if there wasn’t a good old mosh. In the middle of the set, during four simple words, he made the whole of the room separate into a massive circle, and progressively run around it in a clockwise motion, yelling “run faster” until people started bouncing off each other, their sweaty bodies flailing in the air, screaming the lyrics.
I was in the back of the room where I could see it in full view, and it was truly an unforgettable sight. It consisted of mostly men in their 30s to 40s, decked out in punk outfits, the occasional mow hawk, banging against each other with the most ecstatic of expressions. Frank Turner knows how to give the audience this infectious energy that feels almost tangible – like electricity sparks flying on stage. There was a power contained in that room that was almost magical. I felt like I was going to shock my fellow audience member with second-hand static.
Near the end where there is meant to be an encore, Frank Turner turns to the crowd and declares, “We aren’t here to play adult peek-a-boo, so I am just going to tell you that we have three more songs left.” Then, he explains, “I know you lot have a primal insatiable urge for screaming one more song, so I’ll let you do it now so we can get it out of the way.” One thing about Frank Turner is that he keeps it real, and I respect that.
This show really resonated with me, and it made me feel powerful. I guess that’s the power of folk-punk. We are excited to see him at Stay Gold at Good Things After Party, an artist not to miss.