Live at Cardigan Arms on Friday, 10th October 2003
'Vive Le Revolution' say Action Directe. Well if the topless, gyrating, hairy-backed fan in a CSKA Moscow scarf constitutes the revolution then the fat cats, fascists and fence-sitters, Action Directe so vociferously oppose, will sleep easy in the corridors of power.
Indeed, occupying, as they do, a quasi-gothic middle-ground somewhere between electronica, techno and industrial, mobilising the masses could prove to be tricky as the attendance tonight proves. A duo without a definable genre, Action Directe spit out too much fiery punk bluster for technophiles, too much electroclash for punks and too much of both to appeal to the Goths. In short they're too damn angry and political to be genuinely accessible.
And therein lies the crying shame because these lads have something to say. OK, so they're anti-this, they're pro-that, they're lefty, commie, rabble-rousers; but its all done with a swagger and smirk that suggests they want to bring down the establishment, but they're bloody well going to make time to take in the match and enjoy a couple of pints on the way.
So don't be scared off armchair revolutionaries, you're not going to get roped into selling the Morning Star just by watching them. What you will get is an hour of decibel-driven, foot-stomping, frenetic protest anthems and a cause you just can't help but warm to.
Careful not to warm to it too much though or you'll end up stripping-off like our aforementioned semi-naked friend who, while he may or may not have been part of the revolution, was at least, in one sense of the word, revolting! Honestly, they just write themselves, they really do!