Classic Rock

The Jam

- Paul Moody

London Michael Sobell Sports Centre

December 12, 1981

It’s Christmas. Snow on the ground, Thatcher in power, and the Human League’s Don’t You Want Me at No.1. At an all-ages show, thousands of school-kid mods try to act cool while shivering in the cold. Or is it the prospect of facing the gangs of skinheads rumoured to be massing at Finsbury Park station to pick off stragglers afterwards?

None of it matters during an electrifyi­ng 21-song set in which Going Undergroun­d, Start! and David Watts are greeted with huge roars – all from a crowd fuelled by nothing stronger than fizzy drinks. The announceme­nt of a new song, a month before its release, is greeted with total silence, but A Town Called Malice sounds incredible. “Bear this in mind!” Paul Weller says sagely before a final When You’re Young triggers one more euphoric teenage rampage.

On the way out, a trestle table full of CND parapherna­lia and a huge Christmas tree in the foyer get trashed to mass chants of “We are the mods!” before it’s back to grim North London reality.

Down in the Tube station at midnight, ecstasy morphs into terror. Whispers in the shadows. The distant echo of faraway voices boarding faraway trains. It hits me: this isn’t just music to live your life by. This music is my life. Now that’s entertainm­ent.

 ??  ?? Jim Morrison with The Doors: don’t be afraid of the dark.
The Jam in ’81: now that’s entertainm­ent.
Jim Morrison with The Doors: don’t be afraid of the dark. The Jam in ’81: now that’s entertainm­ent.
 ??  ?? The Beatles in ’65: the sound and smell of the future.
The Beatles in ’65: the sound and smell of the future.

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