Masturbation by the buzzcocks

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The first and only time I saw Buzzcocks play live was in , at the Incubate festival in the Netherlands. They seemed an incongruous choice for a festival otherwise dedicated to experimentalism and dark cutting-edge fare. Mild curiosity, really, drew me into the big hall—only to be stunned by the power and glory of the noise wrought by the worse-for-wear-looking survivors on the stage. I found myself doing something embarrassingly close to a pogo. I had turned up expecting something rote and stale; instead I was jolted alive. But that is actually how it works with true innovation.

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Spill a drink and smash the glass for the late, great Pete Shelley of the Buzzcocks , one of the most humane, compassionate, emotionally raw songwriters punk rock ever coughed up, not to mention the funniest. He did for lovesick whimpers what Hendrix did for feedback. This guy always knew how to turn doomed romantic misery into a grand laugh.