999
Emergency at the Old Waldorf 1979
Liberation Hall
In the absence of sirens blaring and alarm bells going off, an Emergency at the Old Waldorf 1979 was declared. An impassioned, rip-roaring live set from first wave UK punks, 999, it’s a gnarly, exhilarating piece of history, unearthed from a time when the band gave America all it had and then some on tour — this after being dissuaded at home from crossing the Atlantic by the British press. 999 had other ideas.
And the blazing, newly remastered sound of Emergency at the Old Waldorf 1979 proves their decision to go was the right one, this heady second show of a San Francisco doubleheader capturing 999 in full throat. Terry Hammer, who recorded and mixed this incendiary, previously unreleased concert LP on the fly, was doing the Lord’s work, documenting and broadcasting Bay Area live music with a commitment and attention to detail that was nothing short of inspiring. Legendary music writer Bill Kopp pays admiring tribute to Hammer in the accompanying liner notes, taking great pains to credit Hammer’s efforts to preserve everything he could, including that which is contained herein, having been salvaged from Hammer’s own bulging archives.
999 vocalist/guitarist Nick Cash also chimes in with his perspective on that memorable US jaunt and what made it a rousing success. They went down like a house on fire, which is exactly what became of the Old Waldorf that evening, sweat and spittle flying everywhere, as a feverish Cash seemed to count off excitedly before almost every undeniably catchy number that simply exploded out of the gates. Hammer’s thrilling heroics yielded an imperfect, in-your-face tour de force that practically hauls listeners by the scruff of the neck to within inches of Cash’s twisted visage and dirty microphone, just as punk intended.
If the sound is somewhat patchy, Emergency at the Old Waldorf 1979 nevertheless jumps out of the speakers, as an energetic 999 obliterates any imaginary wall separating them from a frothing crowd. Primal rock ‘n roll hooks, a locked-in, thumping rhythm section and squirrelly, slashing guitars muscle their way through rollicking, dizzying riots “Hit Me” and “Let’s Face It,” before swaggering and strutting down the mean streets of “Feelin’ Alright with the Crew,” getting low down and dirty with “Me and My Desire,” and manically chopping up “Emergency.” Their knives were out, and they were sharp.
Surprisingly tuneful, 999 could get away with something as edgy and nasty as “Homicide,” their most famous number, because of their keen pop sensibility, however raw and unrefined it was at the time. Six bonus tracks pad the CD and download versions, featuring the shambolic swing of “Pick it Up,” the whirling dervish “My Street Stinks,” a hot-rodding “Action,” and the accelerating “Nobody Knows,” which could have been hopped up on amphetamines. At least for one spectacular night, 999 was the number of the beast.
