John Cooper Clarke

John Cooper Clarke, Linton Kwesi Johnson, Mike Garry, Jan Brierton, Freya Beer

‘In Celebration of World Poetry Day’ At Mancheser AO Arena 

March 29 2025

Live Review

In which the nation’s saving grace and best known poet, John Cooper Clarke headlines a defining bill at the biggest ever poetry event in the UK.

It’s fair to say that John Cooper Clarke has been around the block a few times, and at 75, the still sprightly, wiry, familiar figure can still own a stage with the power of words and a sharp suited and booted charisma. Tonight in front of several thousand people he captivates and cajoles with his his legendary poems old and new like like Beasley Street, Twat, Hire Car, Get Back on Drugs You Fat Fuck, Lydia, Girl With an Itch and Necrophilia…all slices of perfectly observed poetic wit and acidic sonnets ingrained into the hearts of a generation and beyond with their witty word play and caustic Salford sense of humour. 

There’s lots of perfect placed swearing, of course, but also a love of words, ideas, idiosyncrasies and the madness of life and the good doctor’s ability to find the magic in the mundane. A Dylanesque twist that has seen him become a big influence in the decades since he first came to prominence in the punk rock wars.

Dressed to kill in a crooner suit and the now familiar big hat he walks on to the biggest of stages with his spindly legs and impenetrable shades and for over and hour ad libs observations, tells daft jokes and either reads his poems out or fires them hands free with the helter skelter high velocity that makes him the only remaining punk generation figurehead who still operates at the same speed as his youth. 

The past few years have been kind to the good doctor with the Arctic Monkeys’ cover of I Wanna Be Yours planting him in the middle of the modern pop mainstream with just under 3 billion listens on Spotify, making it the Sheffield band’s biggest streaming song, which underlines his timeless talent for a new generation. These days the last of the eternally hip beats a mixture between the vicious wit of Lenny Bruce or the beat messiah Neal Cassady whose description by Jack Kerouac also sits well on the good doctor’s skinny shoulders, ‘the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes “Awww!”.

These days, JCC is maverick/mainstream, and his love/hate relationship with his new national treasure status has seen him fill venues like this, whereas, two decades ago, he was a shipwreck and another fierce talent burned out by the fripperies of showbiz. 

It’s great to see his talent given the spotlight and he has never seemed so busy and productive with many new poems and pithy takes on life with his delivery that is as sharp and angular as his suits.

The evening is both the biggest gig of his career and a fitting epitaph to Johnny Green, his venerable tour manager for several decades who was also a legend in his own right. Johny was the super smart, hard as nails tour manager for the Clash at their peak who somehow gathered those heppest of hep Clash City Rocker hep cats together in their most wayward moments in the middle of the genuine revolution of punk rock. Johnny left us a few weeks ago and many have memories of the ultimate raconteur who also has the best stories to tell by the simple fact of being there at the heart and soul of everything.

John Cooper Clarke is the celebrated headline tonight but the whole evening is a seamless celebration of the art of the word. From the doors, the supporting poets seamlessly overlap each other with their different takes on this, the most ancient of art forms.

Opening up is Freya Beer, the pop noir gothic princess whose music we have covered many times on this site and who is also a poet in her own right/write. Her personal word flows are enticing and crafted slices of from the heart neo romantic lyrical sketches that dare to Baudelaire. Jan Brierton has popped over from Dublin with her pithy takes on life and middle age that are both funny and poignant and make a poetry out of their minimalistic simplicity and messages that see many heads in the audience nodding in agreement. Another of the Manchester school of street bards, Mike Garry has been supporting Dr Clarke for years and has honed his performance down to a theatrical perfection. He holds the audience with his off mic singing as he wanders onto the stage, waiting until the room is on his terms before performing powerful pieces on life’s ups and downs that are both funny, perfectly observed and tragic. A charismatic presence, he talks of the power of words and the steroid crank of education and then delivers his famous litany to Tony Wilson, which is rapturously received.

The special guest tonight is the legendary Linton Kwesi Johnson, whose political dub poetry made such an impact back in the post-punk period. With a gravitas afforded by his words that depicted the West Indian experience of the time his voice is even more captivating with the added weight afforded by his elder statesmen role. He holds the arena in the palm of his hand as he delivers the still powerful poems like ‘Sonny’s Lettah (Anti Suss-poem)’, which in Trump world 2025 is still a powerful warning to the authorities that want to divide and rule.

The seamless whole stitches these diverse voices into a captivating perfection and the love and respect between each poet is great to see. It sets the stage for John Cooper Clarke whose headline slot underlines the power of words and is a true celebration of World Poetry Day.

It’s a triumphant night and homecoming for one of Manchester and Salford’s most loved sons who still connects with the city which has much changed from the Beasley street of his youth to the Beasley Boulevard of the now.