The Mob - first hometown gig in 30 years

In the late 1970s a punk band emerged from the Yeovil scene, released a handful of singles and an album and disbanded in November 1983.  That band was the Mob and tonight after 30 years they are once again playing a gig in their hometown in tribute to local artist Stephen (Wilf) Wilmott whose exhibition is showing at the Octagon Theatre.

The Mob were lumped in with the whole anarchist punk scene; heck they even released the single "No Doves Fly Here" on the infamous Crass record label which then went on to top the indie charts and stayed there for weeks.  The songs portrayed the world as a gloomy and depressing place - ravaged by war, corruption and pollution, yet the mournful music and beautiful social commentary, while intensely emotional and at times full of despair meant that the Mob"s message was far different to that of their contemporaries: less confrontational than Conflict; less preachy than Flux of Pink Indians; less political than Chumbawamba and less coarse than Crass.  It wasn't nihilistic - there was a glimmer of hope and a way forward and it was all wrapped up in a clear social statement.

The Quicksilver Mail is packed by the time the Mob take to the stage at around 10pm, following sets by support bands Try Not To (featuring Mob drummer Graham Fallows son Tom); Psycho Daisies (Wilf used to be a sometime member, and guitarist Graham had played no small part in collating material for the Grotty Hand of Wilf exhibition) and Idiot Strength (who include Steve Corr, the man who collaborated with Wilf in Cracked Image Graphix).  Plenty of old faces are of course in attendance including members of other local punk bands including Static Activity, Virus, Null and Void and Drongo Creeping Flesh and even Chris from Yeovil record shop Acorn Music who used to sell Mob records back in the day puts in an appearance.

Kicking off with the both tracks from their first ever single "Youth" and "Crying Again" the band immediately had the crowd dancing, singing and pogoing away erratically.  Certainly it appeared that either creaky old legs were giving way, or the pints of cider flowing through veins had taken their toll, yet this didn't stop many from participating.  The band was tight; certainly more polished than the gig they played in Bristol in early April, and probably more professional than most gigs from their youth when the band played with battered guitars which were missing strings while Mark's vocals were flat and discordant.  Tonight the guys seemed, for the most part to be really enjoying themselves, Mark was frequently smiling and even bantered with the crowd, although bassist Curtis was clearly aggravated towards the end by a drunken, glazed eyed punter who kept knocking his bass out of tune towards the latter part of the set.  I had a word with the bloke and guided him out of the way, pointing him in the direction of the bar (although another drink was probably the last thing he needed)!  The band then finished the set with their most well known number No doves fly here, followed by Never Understood and finally I hear you laughing.

Certainly this was a night of nostalgia for many (including myself), but scarily things haven't changed much in 30 years: people still starve; wars are still happening; and the world still sucks.  The message and the music is still as relevant as ever and it is good to see the band back.