"The police cars lined up in orderly blockades outside. The weather was freezing. A group of evangelicals standing in the ice and snow warning us not to go inside, surly we’d burn in hell. For me, it was a no brainer… I didn't like the cold. Cain’s Ballroom was filled with a mixture of those who had never heard of the band until a week ago and a few of us who knew every fucking song. Shaeffer had set up a “press box” in front of the stage, rope tying together a few chairs. A fake barricade which quickly disintegrated as the band came on. Rotten stood there staring with a look of disdainful amusement as the audience erupted into chaos. Beer cans, cups of water, ashtrays and other assorted detritus went flying through the air. Jones was pissed, Vicious oblivious, Cook just happy to be shielded from projectiles. And then, the band played on. Clusters of clueless idiots began to leave. We who stayed would be forever changed, anointed in the blood of anarchy. One more performance and it was all over. Gone too soon or not gone soon enough. Ever get the feeling you’ve been cheated? I’ve seen tons of bands before and since then, most of them were quite good but forty years ago tonight was the only real genuinely pure whole package rock n roll show that I ever attended. God Save Us All."
- Greg Sewell