Live Review: The Libertines – On The Beach, Brighton 28/07/2024
Pete Doherty seems pleased to be in Brighton. Walking onstage - alongside his band The Libertines - to the sound of music hall classic ‘I Do Like to Be Beside the Seaside’, clad in a quintessential green parka and just itching to reference ‘Quadrophenia’, he’s clearly got into the spirit of the coastal city. He’s far from alone in making the most of the gloriously sunny day; Brighton beach is filled with like-minded revellers enjoying the Sunday evening sunshine, with some of them having been here since 2pm, watching the extensive supporting line-up of Chappaqua Wrestling, The Futureheads, The Big Moon, The Mary Wallopers, and baggy icons The Charlatans. The latter are on fine form, frontman Tim Burgess somehow bouncing around in a thick blue coat, despite the sweltering heat. With 90s hits such as ‘The Only One I Know’ and ‘Just When You’re Thinkin’ Things Over’ in their arsenal, they warm the crowd up with ease, their chilled, groove-based brand of indie a good fit for the relaxed vibes of golden hour on the famous pebbles.
As indie rock classics ‘Take Me Out’, ‘I Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor’ and ‘Rock ‘n’ Roll Star’ (the Libs could never be accused of not knowing their audience) blast out the speakers, anticipation for The Libertines’ arrival grows substantially. When the charmingly chaotic 00s legends - comprised of co-frontmen and guitarists Pete Doherty and Carl Barât, bassist John Hassall, and drummer Gary Powell- take to the stage, they’re met with huge cheers which suggest that, though drug issues and strained relations may have robbed them of the chance to be as big as Arctic Monkeys back in the day, in 2024 they’re more popular than ever. Indeed, their latest album ‘All Quiet On The Eastern Esplanade’ saw them claim their second UK No.1, 20 years after the band first hit the top spot with their eponymous sophomore record.
There’s plenty of cuts from their most recent offering tonight, not least lead single ‘Run Run Run’, which kicks things off in suitably anthemic fashion. It’s followed by fan-favourite ‘The Delaney’, before Doherty introduces second album closer ‘What Became of the Likely Lads’ by gleefully paraphrasing Brighton-set mod movie ‘Quadrophenia’. “Cheer up Jim, Brighton tomorrow! Gonna go down and see some of the faces”, he grins knowingly. “What you talking about? I am one of the faces!”, he shouts with a smile, drawing massive cheers from those in the know (probably around half the audience, which isn’t surprising considering the band and location). The other Libertines are also fans of the Who album on which the film is based, and they join Doherty for a brief rendition of ‘The Real Me’, which sets the tone for a rowdy ‘Boys in the Band’, before recent single ‘Night of the Hunter’ takes things in a darker, eerily atmospheric direction.
Next comes the endearingly off-kilter ballad ‘What Katie Did’, one of the band’s very best songs, and a clear gig highlight, even at this early stage. “What you gonna do Katie? / You’re a sweet sweet girl, but it’s a cruel cruel world”, sings Barât in an engrossingly nonchalant croon, backed by an enthusiastic crowd who sing along to every word as the sun sets behind them. ‘The Good Old Days’ begins with a superb drum solo from Powell, slipping into a funky bassline before the crashing swirl of its chorus takes the song somewhere else entirely, while the punky ‘Up the Bracket’ gets fans moving with its punchy power-chords and lyrical endorsement of flipping V’s (the rude ones, naturally). In stark contrast is the next song ‘Shiver’, a melancholic, reflective number which sees the stage drenched in blue light as Doherty and Barât take in the magnitude of the evening, looking out at the black sea as their vocals intertwine, shades of both yearning and acceptance palpably present in their voices.
As if to keep the audience on their toes, they then launch into a blistering rendition of ‘Vertigo’, its driving riff propelling the track towards a pummelling conclusion, before switching the mood yet again by deploying the smart and understated ‘Merry Old England’, all rhythmic keys and dreamy progressions. ‘Death on the Stairs’ follows, taking the two distinct moods the band have dealt in thus far, and melding them into one extremely effective whole, Barât’s scratchy, swelling guitar complimenting Doherty’s bittersweet admittance that “If you really need it/ You just won’t leave it behind”, no matter how determinantal “it” (drugs presumably, though a toxic relationship could also be inferred) may be for your health. The acoustic anthem ‘Music When The Lights Go Out’ explores this theme further, prompting mass singalongs as the cross-generational audience belt out that age old quandary: “Is it cruel or kind not to speak my mind/ And to lie to you, rather than hurt you?”. The weighty concerns of the song are lifted somewhat by Doherty’s dog Gladys running on stage to cheers and laughter, clearly enjoying her moment in the spotlight.
‘Horror show’ and ‘Heart of the Matter’ rattle by with volcanic intensity, before the brilliant back-and-forth of ‘Can’t Stand Me Now’ transforms Brighton beach into one deafening voice, every single person joining in on the song's monster chorus, proceeding to whoop and cheer as Doherty’s tackles the iconic harmonica outro with characteristic aplomb. Some punters seem concerned that - notwithstanding the band’s other big hit - time has simply flown by and the night’s over, however the minor piano chords which nudge the beautiful ‘You’re My Waterloo’ into life quickly put paid to any such concerns. “You’ll never fumigate the demons/ No matter how much you smoke”, sings Doherty mournfully, in what feels very much like a note to self. Having discarded his parka in favour of his trademark suit and hat, he cuts an emotive, instantly recognisable figure, the almost mythic imagery of a man who should be dead adding extra pathos to an already moving moment.
As has become customary this evening, the band waste no time in screeching to the opposite end of the musical spectrum for the white-knuckle rush of ‘What a Waster’, following it up with the catchy ska of comeback single ‘Gunga Din’. Next comes the infectious indie banger ‘Time for Heroes’, a snappy, upbeat ode to youth and rebellion which has every last person singing at the top of their lungs, for the third time this evening. As if that wasn’t triumphant enough, the band bring Tim Burgess on for a barnstorming ‘Don’t Look Back into the Sun’, the crowd singing along to the song’s iconic riff (famed for its use in both ‘The Inbetweeners’ and ‘Gavin & Stacey’), even if Tim seems to have some trouble remembering the words. No matter - the night belongs to The Libertines themselves, and as the likely lads take a bow amidst a cacophony of feedback, you can’t help but feel a sense of pride. After everything they’ve been through, The Libertines have proved their detractors wrong, with an acclaimed no.1 album and victorious On The Beach headline cementing their position in British popular culture.
The drug-addled chaos of their early years might speak to the destructive nature of rock ‘n’ roll, but make no mistake: The Libertines are at the peak of their powers. As Doherty and Barât put it, “There were no good old days”.
“These are the good old days”.
Words by Ben Left
