Why I’ll Always Be in the Front Row: A Love Letter to SLF and Punk Rock
Memories of the youth club disco come flooding back—feeling vibrant, alive, and full of excitement. Punk was the ultimate “up yours” to every person, parent, teacher, and peer who had ever put me down or given up on me. It was more than just music; it was a home for the disenfranchised, the lonely, the misfits, the sad, the lost, and the angry.
Songs like Wasted Life screamed our feelings, as if we had written the words ourselves. I could have written them; God knows I’ve sung, screamed, and shouted them so many times.
That’s why you’ll always find me in the front row, standing strong for over three hours without a break. It means everything to that 15-year-old girl who still lives inside me—and to the woman I’ve become. I’ve had to fight my entire life—not always with fists—to be seen and heard, to stand up for my rights as a woman, a mother, and above all, a human being.
Though some things have improved, we’re living in grim times. Money is scarce, food and heating costs are out of control, and the country is on its knees—along with the underclass.
So, on the last night of the festival, watching Stiff Little Fingers take the stage at the Empress Ballroom, every note felt like it might be the last. My money was spent, and reality loomed like a grim specter in the background. But in that moment, every guitar riff ripped through my heart and soul.
I remembered the energy and hope of that 15-year-old girl. The crowd stood as one; there were no strangers here. We all felt it—the call to the wild, the siren song of exuberant youth. It’s a drug for the clean and a banner for the sober.
I was asked why I’d stand in the front row, alone, for so long. I hope this explains it. This band, alongside The Sex Pistols, The Buzzcocks, and The Clash, was gigging back in 1977. They were groundbreaking, shocking, and unlike anything the world had seen or heard before.
The late ’70s were as challenging as today—power cuts, major strikes, and societal conformity were everywhere. These guys—Stiff Little Fingers—have done their time. They deserve to be the final band on the main stage, closing out the biggest punk festival in the world.