Frank Turner wants you to sing along. He wants you to jump up and down. He wants you to put your arm around your neighbor, raise your pint, and say cheers. If you’ve never been to a pub in Turner’s native England, listening to his music has the ability to transport you there — minus the hangover and the sweaty, turbo-charged, potentially violent football (“soccer”) fans.
Last night, Turner performed for a raucous and loyal crowd at the Music Farm, immediately bursting on to the stage with an energy befitting of his punk-rock roots. Diving headfirst into one of his most well-known singles, Turner began his set with “Recovery,” urging his audience to let go and really get in to the music. Next came “The Road,” from 2009’s Poetry of the Deed, which, given the number of people singing along, illustrated the fact that Charleston is, in fact, home to many a Frank Turner fan.
One of the highlights of the show included the possibly offensive, definitely blasphemous “Glory Hallelujah,” the chorus of which loudly proclaims “There is no God/ So clap your hands together.” Some might have thought this unwise to perform in a place nicknamed the “Holy City,” but Turner knew his audience, and that it would be received with the humor he intended. There’s also, of course, the possibility Turner deliberately, tongue-in-cheek, chose to perform it because he was in the Holy City. How punk.
Toward the end of the show, aiming to impress his fans with newfound Charleston facts, Turner informed the crowd that our state amphibian is the salamander (we have a state amphibian?). After a generous, 90-minute show, not only did his audience leave happy and wanting more, they left with knowledge that just may come in handy at next team trivia night.
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