Hope lives on and on

Rock Against Racism organiser Geoff Martin reckons that he's "one lucky bastard" to have worked in politics and the music biz, although it hasn't done his hairline any good.

He certainly knows how to combine music and politics, as tonight's anti-fascist barnstormer amply attests.

There's a fantastic atmosphere, like a pub gig attended by all your mates. The crowd is just as diverse as Sunday's Love Music Hate Racism festival in Victoria Park. Young and old, boys and girls, black and white trade unionists, Trots and tankies are all united in the common purpose of having fun and smashing the BNP tonight.

Teenage reggae-punks The Thirst kick off to an almost empty house at the cavernous Brixton Academy, which is a shame as they're very good.

"Brixton's finest," as co-compere and Rock Against Racism veteran Tom Robinson calls them, aren't at all bothered by their sound echoing round the hall or the handful of half-hearted dancers down the front. Watch out for this lot in the sweatboxes, where they promise to be lethal.

Hairy old punk folkers The Levellers follow, drum tight and full of energy. They slow it down and acoustic it up on The Boatman, assisted by didgeridoo player Stephen Boakes. who wears a kilt, clown make-up and feather boa.

The crazed didger sticks around for One Way, appropriately running about the stage like AC/DC guitarist Angus Young.

Maybe the swelling crowd is getting better lubricated, but Carry Me sees the craic in the pit in canny fettle at last. As singer Mark Chadwick asks, "Who says political music is dead?"

The place is packed to the rafters by the time Misty In Roots take the stage. Veterans of the 1979 anti-National Front protests in their home town of Southall, Misty play old-school reggae with no bullshit.

Their classic sound fills the huge theatre with ease, washing over the masses like a warm wave, their Morricone-esque brass trio wailing and lamenting atop the pumping rhythm section.

They sing of African liberation and institutional racism, with vocalist Walford Townsend (below left) saying: "They had to wait until a black youth was killed before they found that racism was an institution."

Electro-country bluesters Alabama 3 hit the stage in a burst of strobes and glares of pure white back-light. Their ambient psycho-billy gets the crowd moving right away.

Co-singer Devlin Love is in fine voice tonight, like a post-pop Edith Piaf.

The band hit the audience's wavelength on singalong number U Don't Danse 2 Tekno Anymore, after which it's a long rollercoaster ride home for these natural successors to Primal Scream, that band of my distant youth.

Alabama 3's super-duper light show and lack of audience banter make it all a bit more impersonal than it should be on a night like this, but a good time is still had by all.

The stage starts to resemble Parliament - of the funkadelic variety - as the world and his mum join in on closer Shoot Me Up.

Robinson lets us go with the order to "kick the BNP's backside." Hope Not Hate in 2008 - right on!