Black Flag After a rip roaring opener there is only one word to describe Black Flag and that’s underwhelming. When you finally get round to seeing stalwarts of the scene you want to feel a build up of energy for when they enter the stage. As the between bands pop-punk playlist continues to ring out they they casually embrace their instruments to the sounds of Fall Out Boy’s Arms Race; positioning their A3 laminated set list for all to see. There was something comical and tragic about the affair. As if a contemporary Shakespeare had penned the moment a punk dream died.


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