Live performance review from Black Flag live in Hong Kong:
Can’t Decide
Nervous Breakdown
No Values
I’ve Had It
Wasted
Black Coffee
Six Pack
Depression
Police Story
Swinging Man
Nothing Left Inside
Fucked Up
My War
I’ve Heard It Before
Revenge
Fix Me
This Is Good
Clocked In
Room 13
Gimme Gimme Gimme
Slip It In
Jealous Again
I Can See You
TV Party
Rise Above
Louie Louie
If Shanghai openers Round Eye were the accelerant, Black Flag are the detonation. Formed in California’s Hermosa Beach in 1976 and driven ever since by founding guitarist Greg Ginn, the band remain one of American hardcore’s original shock forces; the current line-up pairs Ginn with vocalist Max Zanelly, bassist David Rodriguez and drummer Bryce Weston.
They surprise the crowd with a monster, career-spanning set of two halves, with a 20-minute break in between. This delights ticket-holders, who range from way-back fans wearing tatty vintage shirts to a younger crew embracing the seminal group who’ve finally made it to Hong Kong exactly 50 years after forming.
For a sold-out Hong Kong debut, The Wanch – Hong Kong’s oldest independent livehouse with a formidable history of its own – couldn’t have been a better choice. A makeshift barrier is erected to control the sweaty hordes, a tattoo parlour establishes a pre-show residency and Ginn himself wanders the venue beforehand to have a chat with anyone who approaches.
An extended instrumental “Can’t Decide” blasts in with bubbling bass, rolling toms and a long, needling stretch of feedback before Zanelly tears in, ferocious and unvarnished. As the story goes, Ginn signs her after spotting her singing along at the front of a previous show, while Rodriguez and Weston auditioned their way in.
The vocalist cuts a mean figure throughout the show, leaning over The Wanch’s makeshift barrier to rile punters, leaning back and headbanging during instrumentals, and commanding the room with a punk sneer when it’s her turn to bark vocals. Her voice has a disarmingly low gruffness honed by years of roaring lyrics at punk shows and, now it’s time for her to shine, she strides into the spotlight and owns the stage.
A viral turn at April’s Coachella festival brought attention to the group for the age of its members, with derision being broadcast in certain circles about the authenticity of the group, including everything from Ginn’s ego-driven avarice to the lack of performance experience of his band. Any doubts are carved clean away in Hong Kong tonight: the band’s youthfulness proves its strength. Charged with fearsome energy and as far from jaded you can get, the set feels fresh and relevant; the classic Black Flag themes of railing against authority, navigating relationships and struggling with inner turmoil are more relevant than ever when caught in the pincers of this so-called “Gen Z Flag”.
“Nervous Breakdown” sends the room straight into a sweat-flinging crush by song two, while “No Values”, “I’ve Had It”, “Wasted” and “Six Pack” keep the momentum in that classic Black Flag zone: reckless, ugly, anti-showbiz. On the latter track, Chris B’s husband, the evening’s valiant Hodor, is spotted pushing his weight against the barrier to stop it from flying loose as fighting fans dissolve into a frenzied, liquid state.
Ginn, composed amid the chaos, keeps twisting out solos that sound more wrestled into being than played. Without breaking a sweat, he switches from riffs to soloing, proving why he’s so frequently cited as one of rock’s most underrated players. However, it’s drummer Weston who truly steals the show: he gives everything to every song, balancing punk power with technical precision (this is not an AI review). It’s a roasting night and his utter locomotive force from start to finish is astonishing. Bassist Rodriguez is a lower-key presence, more akin to Ginn in his preference for his bandmates to take centre-stage. But his lines thud through pugnaciously and he locks in with Weston to create an unassailably tough backbone that allow Ginn and Zanelly to get a little wild.
The deeper pull comes when the set swerves into My War material, their sophomore release that’s said to have laid the foundations for the sludge metal genre: its songs are slower, heavier, punishingly strange. “Nothing Left Inside”, “Fucked Up” and “My War” land thick and lethargic.
“Slip It In” stretches into a huge, 20-minute jam, delirious in its psychedelic bluesiness. “Greg’s favourite band is Grateful Dead,” shares a fan in the audience, and it’s an influence clearly heard in this helter-skelter rendition. Massive reactions greet the the closing triplet: “TV Party” turns rabble-rousing and “Rise Above” (there are now three staffers holding the barrier) cracks the room before “Louie Louie” seals it. This was a bucket-list night by a band accustomed to far larger stages, and Hong Kong made sure they felt embraced.
-El Jay
