In the early 1980s, the Warehouse club was the place to be in Liverpool. The Rip Rig and Panic gig was one of many memorable nights. Singer Neneh Cherry would, of course, soon become famous in her own right.
From my memoir:
An Eric’s regular called Dave C started putting on bands at the Warehouse, a side-street venue previously known for heavy rock. Like Eric’s it was in a warehouse (surprise) but this time you had to go upstairs. The club didn’t last long – it mysteriously burned down after a couple of years – but for a while it was my favourite stamping ground.
The Warehouse was unpretentious and eclectic: my sort of place. It was a big space with good bands. They put on everyone from Nick Cave to Nico. (I didn’t say the acts weren’t pretentious.)
For those few years, the Warehouse put on everything that was worth seeing: the Birthday Party, Rip Rig and Panic, Pigbag, the Chameleons, the Gang of Four, King Trigger, the Higsons, the Dead Kennedys, the Au Pairs, Felt, Fad Gadget… Yes, it does sound like an evening listening to John Peel.
What did they have in common? Nothing, really, and that was what was so good about it.
The numerous subcultures that had come after punk felt like dead ends, but this was post-punk, which was still exciting because it went in all sorts of directions. One day we started calling it indie. That was where the 1980s started.
That's entertainment
RIP RIG AND PANIC
Liverpool Warehouse
Melody Maker, January 23, 1982
THERE were queues outside the club and crowds within – a welcome show of optimism for the new year, and a sign of the interest surrounding the group. Could this enthusiasm be merely the result of hipness and hype? Are Rip Rig and Panic just another London-sponsored con?
The universal delight they created among the audience swept away any such suggestion.
What we start with is a seven piece group: four white and three black. Or: five men and two women. Or: a three man rhythm section; a two woman dance and vocal section, a pianist, a saxophonist. Or… but classification is impossible.
The opening lays down terms of reference (file under Africa). Rhythm is important, and the dancing of the two girls, in suitably ethnic clothing and bare feet, sets the tone for an evening of cross-cultural education.
The second song seems to be following a similar course, but then a bizarrely dressed man in bare white legs wanders to the front of the stage and begins singing, and the words he's singing go something like this: "It's been a hard day's night, I've been working like an arsehole… what comes next?"
What does come next is confusion. Expectations are demolished at a blow, with the dreadful suspicion that this group might not be totally serious. Straight faces have no place here.
The girls discard their costumes and return in unselfconscious shorts and T-shirts to continue dancing with abandon, and the enjoyment of the rest of the group is equally evident.
If you ever thought the Slits were a mess you'll know what it was like – a game with a purpose; apparent chaos held together by rhythm. It's hard to tell how much is improvised and how much is planned, but a sense of spontaneous enjoyment comes through – and that's just on stage.
For the audience, there's something for the ear, the eye, or the body. Take a place in the crowd around the group and marvel at the antics on stage. Stand further back and simulate them if you can find the space to dance. Better still stand on a table and do both.
“Isn’t that the best jam session you ever heard?" someone asks, and when the musicians finally leave the stage the rhythm continues, so that you hardly notice the difference until you realise that it's coming from the audience itself, just the sound of hands on furniture, perfectly synchronised.
Audience participation. Bewildering entertainment. What more do you need?
I was at that gig. Loved Rip, Rig and Panic.
Was amazed when they turned up on an episode of The Young Ones
I was at this. Fantastic mayhem. :)
I must have got there late, as I don't remember seeing Frankie either, but I read somewhere it was their first gig.