March 2, 1980 Leixlip Castle, Dublin, IRE

NME review by Niall Stokes

After weeks of legal wrangling and public confusion, the Boomtown Rats finally found a home for their return to Dublin in the spacious grounds of Leixlip Castle. A more unlikely location of the Rats achievement in taking on the combined forces of ignorance, prejudice and misunderstanding and finally coming out on top would have been hard to imagine - but then that's a reflection of just how badly off Dublin has been for venues. Throughout the sorry mess preceding the gig, the Rats had been cast in the role of flag-bearers for a culture so obviously seen as a threat by the local establishment. The Rats are to the Irish what the Grundy-era Pistols were to the British, simply because Bob Geldof is prepared to puncture as many sacred cows as he can with every opportunity he gets to talk in public. Allied to that is the fact that the band are hugely successful, and you have what amounts to a potentially powerful vehicle for influencing teenage sons and daughters.

That the Rats music doesn't deliver on this level is neither here nor there to those who wouldn't know the difference between Showaddywaddy and the MC5; they're "punk rockers", and that's enough. But it's undeniable, nonetheless; the one specifically pointed comment the Rats make on the environment from which they sprang comes in "Rat Trap", which in the context gained added impact, providing a musical high matched only by "I Don't Like Mondays".

But given the public concern about security preceding the gig there was another irony here, as the band had to stop in the middle of their most emotional and compelling statement to have a spectator removed from the lighting rig. "We don't mind you dancing but we don't want you killing yorselves", Geldof commented.

In fact the security on the day was generally sloppy and inept, with a series of fights breaking out at the front, the stage being scaled on a number of occasions and a general feeling of uneasiness. Again it was ironic that, in the end, this projection, should be the major cause of the Rats less than satisfactory performance although the fact that the stage, sound and lighting had been erected in less than 36 hours didn't help either. There just wasen't enough volume on Pete Briquette's bass, Gerry Cott's guitar or Simon Crowe's drums to reach those at the back of the 14,000 strong crowd, while Geldof's vocals were frequently lost in the mix.

They may have beaten the system, but they'll hardly be happy with the end result.