The Punk All Dayer - Bellahouston Park, Glasgow 21st June 2025

The sun was shining as I left the house for the train station, and I jumped on the 1045 to Glasgow. The station had a great feel to it on Saturday morning, the Edinburgh Pride March was on in the city and there were lots of colourfully dressed marchers getting off the trains that were arriving in the Capital. This contracted massively with the elderly, black t-shirted punks who were heading for Platform 4 en route to Glasgow.

Yeah, the days of reeking mayhem on the way to punk shows was over, I was surrounded by guys in punk shirts drinking coffee and reading the Scotsman!

Once I arrived and met Andy, we headed to Bellahouston. To be honest, the organisation at this end of the day wasn’t great. Too few stewards and too far to walk to get into the one gate that was open. However, we made it. We had splashed for the VIP tickets and got sorted with a wristband for that wee village and headed in for a quick beer before the first band.

We had no sooner grabbed our £7.30 pint when the rain came on. We got a bit of shelter but, the fear came over me that the day was going to end up being a muddy one. After 10 minutes or so, the heavens shut over and the sun popped out. Time for some music…

We had some flying saucer rock to kick us off, The Rezillos. Being first band on is always a big ask, particularly in the rain, but The Rezillos carried it off. Their sound was great, they looked fantastic and they managed to fill the stadium size stage to it's brim. The hits were all there; “Top of the Pops”, “Somebody’s Gonna Get Their Head Kicked in Tonight” and “Teenbeat” did it for me and “I Can’t Stand My Baby” finished a great set of. The day started well.

Quick beer and it was time for The Skids. Like all of Saturdays bands, The Skids have seen many line-up changes since their first release sent them on their way. Richard Jobson remains the only original left in this gathering of black clad gunslingers. His energy and enthusiasm for what he does sticks out a mile; like so many in the crowd Jobson is evidently happy just to be here. Also, in common with so many in the crowd, he has lost some fellow travellers along the way and knows their legacies are to be celebrated. Acknowledging that was a nice touch. “Circus Games”, “Masquerade” and “Into the Valley” keep the gathering crowd on their toes throughout a packed set.

Buzzcocks hasbeen on a journey. Steve Diggle is now truly at the helm and, like Jobson before him, he leads a band of youngsters who breath new life into old songs. This was a Ramones style set where song after song was blasted out with no time to breath in between. Diggle and Co put a power and an energy into their set that belied the years. Again, they knew they were there to play the hits and didn’t disappoint. “What Do I Get”, “Orgasm Addict” and “Ever Fallen in Love” all made me smile and all made me think of Pete Shelley.

We decided it was time to grab a quick bite to eat so off we popped to the VIP Village. Now, this cost us an extra £20 and I think it was worth it. Us punks are getting old and the ability to find a loo without a queue close to the action was a benefit for many. Bar queues were, generally, shorter and the food came out fast and hot from the various vendors. There was a good amount of seats but very little cover when the rain came. The biggest bonus was access to the front section of the venue, this got us a good bit closer to the stage and it was not mobbed either. I thought it was money well spent, and I’ll do the same next time I am at Bellahouston.

After a burger we went to see the band, I was most looking forward to – The Undertones. I was not disappointed. The great thing about short songs is that it's possible to ram a ton of them into a set list. The Undertones managed 23 in their allotted time. Kicking off with “Jimmy Jimmy” and ending with “My Perfect Cousin” pretty much everything else they could have played they did. At one point they were told they were going too fast and had to stick in an extra to bulk their time! This is a band that relies on the quality of their songs over any one personality and these songs certainly stand out. The musical depth of “When Saturday Comes” contrasts with the shallowness of “Male Model” and “You Got My Number” remains, in my view the finest riff in punk music. This was an hour I massively enjoyed.

The only thing every guaranteed in a Stranglers setlist is “Waltzinblack” being pumped though the PA as the band take the stage. Their 50+ years of making consistently good music has left The Stranglers a back catalogue others can only dream off. They are also not afraid to use it, mix it up and surprise their audiences. The first chords were struck, and we were back in 1978 as “Toiler on the Sea” opened up a set of Stranglers crowd pleasers. The next hour or so brought smiles to so many faces, many of whom were wearing Stranglers t-shirts of various designs, vintages and trips through the washing machine. Who doesn’t love a blast of “5 Minutes”, “Duchess” and the big hit “Golden Brown”. Their time with us ended with “No More Heroes”, with a nod to the recently departed Brian Wilson.

Now, much has been said about this particular Sex Pistols reunion. I have reached the age I was on Saturday without ever seeing the Pistols, so I was happy just to have that opportunity and make my own mind up. Frankly, my mind was made up by the first chorus of the opener “Holiday in the Sun”…awesome! I’ve always liked Frank Carter and felt he was just right for this gig. He managed the bridge between respecting the songs, putting his own spin on them and delivering a concert with punk legends pretty well in my view. Like the other three on stage, Frank looked like he was loving it.

This was a night for Never Mind the Bollocks and all eleven tracks from the original release were on Saturday’s set list. As the summer sun dipped, the luminous yellow backdrop of the stage paid it's own homage to the album’s cover and it's colours.

The night ended with “Anarchy in the UK”; after that the lights came on and the March of the Penguins began as many thousand knackered punks made their way back toward the city. My hips were giving me gip, and Andy’s back had gone but we managed to limp to the taxi and back to the hotel.

After a nights rest our shattered bodies made it to the railway station. The punks of the day before were once again on the train and drinking coffee whilst reading the Sunday broadsheets. As Andy said, ‘punks not dead – it’s just better read’!

The day was everything I’d hoped it would be. As the years go on bands will, inevitably, dwindle, until then, it’d be good to see more of these jamborees, punk is certainly not dead not while we live!