Review: The Bad Shepherds, Seven

IT is a cross between folk and punk music, but what can you call that? Funk? Certainly not. It's more a case of 'from The Young Ones to the old ones' for Ade Edmondson's band, The Bad Shepherds, as they deliver predominantly late-70s classics on their Celtic instruments.

The opening bars of most of their covers seem unfamiliar, but as soon as Ade's earthy tones kick in you realise this may be what the Sex Pistols, The Clash and The Jam may sound like in an alternate universe.

Don't get me wrong. This isn't a corny cardigan, pipe and slippers ensemble murdering the punk era. These are four proper musicians performing their versions of the top tunes of that time with wit and artistry.

A wonderfully diverse crowd at Seven witnessed an equally varied mixture of sounds that, while initially unfamiliar, rapidly coalesced into a shared understanding of the band and their product.

As expected, Ade is playful. His sheer enjoyment at playing his thrash mandolin is infectious and his duty-bound role as one of our generation's legendary comic figures is fulfilled with his frequent asides and occasional self-penned atheist parables.

But, essentially, the Bad Shepherds are a collective industry of folk noise, perpetuating the punk ethos through pipes, guitars and the masterful fiddling of Andy Dinan. His talent is immeasurable and was thoroughly respected by the entire crowd.

Highlights of the set for me were Down in the Tube Station at Midnight, God Save the Queen, and the uber-splendid, yet utterly un-Germanic rendition of Kraftwerk's The Model.

JOEL WAINWRIGHT