Live Review: The Levellers, Carus Thompson

What a time to be alive! The old classics are still touring, and The Levellers - despite being ten years younger than the first wave punk bands - absolutely fall into this category. But their legacy is arguably more poignant — rooted firmly in punk rock politics, left-wing hippy activism and the New Age Traveller battlefields of the mid-1980s, The Levellers are folk-punk par excellence.

Fremantle's Carus Thompson came out of the gate nervous, or maybe cautious. It took him a good three-or-four songs to feel comfortable on the big Capitol stage. But once he did...? I'll be fucked, old mate's a loose unit! At his best when accompanied by violinist Lucy Fisher, Thompson absolutely enjoyed himself. "Now is the time to drop your pills," he quipped as he launched into his final number. Damn right.

Something in The Levellers' spirit has the power to instantaneously transport their audience to a halcyon place: somewhere in the agrarian West Country of England, where liberty reigns supreme and nothing matters more than fun and happiness and this weekend, this moment.

Make no mistake, these are men who have lived hard. Dreadlocked Jez Cunningham (bass) is losing his hair, once-babyfaced Mark Chadwick (lead vocals, guitar) is sporting a ridiculous pot belly, and Simon Friend (mandolin, guitar, vocals) looks like he's just been called down off an East Sussex tractor.

But, my god, the music is pure youth. As timeless as England's green countryside, the spirit of punk rebellion and working class activism. Much of this wistfulness is due to Jon Sevink's relentless violin melodies that weave themselves throughout the entire set like an ancient celtic dance.

Kicking off with One Way, tonight's set consisted of belter after absolute belter, weighted heavily with songs from 1991's triumphant sophomore album Levelling The Land, which they played in its entirety.

One thing that sets The Levellers apart from other folk-punk acts like, say, Flogging Molly, is their ability to cover all ground from full-throttle pop thrashers (Liberty Song) to ballads (The Boatman, Another Man's Cause), and even indie rock (It's A Beautiful Day)... and, importantly, everything in between. There's very little black-and-white to The Levellers, despite their strong political convictions.

This is a band that has made partying into an artform, and the results - for all their battered edges and beer guts - remain fucking beautiful. Long live The Levellers!