Live Review: The Libertines, Gunnersbury Park, London 09/08/2025
The 00s indie icons take over West London with a barnstorming mix of classic tracks and new material.
Down the front of London’s Gunnersbury Park, the crowd are bellowing out every word. But here’s the thing: the song they’re singing isn’t live. But it is The Beatles’ celebrated take on ‘Twist and Shout’, and as John Lennon’s raspy vocals blare out the on-stage speakers, the roughly 25,000 strong crowd do their best to match him. The same is true for anthems including ‘London Calling’ and ‘A Message to You, Rudy’, and as the wait for The Libertines grows ever shorter, it’s clear that the band have curated the songs preceding their arrival to showcase some of their biggest inspirations.
The supporting lineup appears to have been chosen carefully too, with the likes of Lambrini Girls and Hak Baker getting things off to a strong start, before lovable punk duo Soft Play delight the sun-soaked crowd with a humorous, high-energy set that will remain a highlight for many, no doubt. Up next are 90s legends Supergrass, who deliver hits including ‘Alright’ and ‘Moving’ as the latecomers file in.
Following the aforementioned PA classics, it’s almost time for the main event. But first, we’re treated to an expressive reading of the Siegfried Sassoon’s poignant WW1 poem ‘Suicide in the Trenches’, which - while suitably weighty - also serves as a pre-emptive rush of nostalgia for fans of a certain age, who almost certainly remember the iconic moment when Libertines frontmen Pete Doherty and Carl Barât recited it upon winning the ‘Best Band’ gong at the 2004 NME awards.
This welcome deja vu intensifies as the band take to the stage, bassist John Hassall and drummer Gary Powell greeting the audience alongside Doherty and Barât, who strap on their guitars and launch straight into the choppy chaos of ‘Up the Bracket’. Limbs fly as the band storm through the song, forgoing any hesitation as they plough into the driving rock of ‘The Delaney’, the crowd howling its chanty chorus back to the band as the mosh pit steps up a gear, some fans getting acquainted with the muddy field before being swiftly picked up by their fellow punters.
‘What Became of the Likely Lads’ proves equally propulsive, while a rollicking ‘Boys in the Band’ rounds out a fiercely impressive opening salvo in style. The first breather of the evening comes in the form of last year’s hauntingly elegiac single ‘Night of the Hunter’, Doherty and Barât sharing choruses as the song’s ‘Swan Lake’-inspired riff rings out across the park.
It’s back to the noughties as the band treat the crowd to a rousing rendition of 2004 classic ‘What Katie Did’, before dipping back into last year’s No.1 album ‘All Quiet on the Eastern Esplanade’, with the haunting ‘Shiver’ and mesmerising ‘Merry Old England’ showcasing a softer, more reflective side to the former hellraisers, not to mention a maturing sonic pallet. Having said that, the old songs retain a ramshackle energy which just can’t be replicated, evidenced by the hordes of people re-entering the pit as fan-favourite ‘Death on the Stairs’ splutters into gear, rattling along at full speed until it reaches its soaring outro.
The band follow it up with beloved second album ballad ‘Music When the Lights Go Out’, which sees everyone sing along as Doherty indulges in the painful reality of a relationship on the rocks: “Music when the lights come on, the girl I thought I knew is gone/ With her my heart it disappears”, he muses as the band crash in, upping the urgency before the song comes full circle, ending with the acoustic sway it began with. An engrossed audience are pulled further into the band’s orbit as Powell strikes up a sizzling drum solo, leading to the twangy Hassall bassline which kicks off ‘The Good Old Days’, a thought-provoking track that warns against the trappings of restorative nostalgia.
“There were no good old days/ These are the good old days”, sings Doherty, before he imbues a sprawling extended outro with his seemingly impromptu yet weirdly well-placed take on The Pet Shop Boys’ ‘West End Girls’. As if heeding the advice of their younger selves, the band proceed to air more new material, the deadpan stagger of ‘Mustangs’ making way for the gothic mysticism of ‘Baron’s Claw’, before a rowdy ‘Run, Run, Run’ rounds out the trilogy of fresh tunes. Then, almost surprisingly early, a raucous ‘Can’t Stand Me Now’ brings the main set to a gleefully chaotic close, Doherty and Barât's intertwining vocals iconic as ever, even if the tension between them is (thankfully) not what it once was.
After a short break, the band return to the stage, opting to open the encore not with a fast old favourite, but 2024’s understated ‘Man With the Melody’, which sees all four members share vocal duties. The soothing vibe is swiftly turned on its head as the band lurch into their unforgiving debut single ‘What a Waster’, all scratchy guitars, pounding drums, and breakneck vocals. Needless to say, huge mosh pits break out as Doherty tells the (seemingly) semi-autobiographical tale of a troubled girl losing her way. “What a waster, what a fucking waster/ You’ve pissed it all up the wall”, he spits.
“Where does all the money go/ Straight, straight up her nose”, he declares, in a manner not dissimilar to the way the tabloid press liked to write about him at the height of his drug-induced infamy. Ska-infused comeback single ‘Gunga Din’ is up next, and it’s notable that the decade-old track is received with the same enthusiasm as the band’s 00s material, the crowd getting swept along by its brilliantly anthemic chorus. The sparkling ‘Songs They Never Play on the Radio’ follows, and it might just be the most magical moment of the night, its atmospheric chord progressions and heartfelt lyrics combining to create a new track which already feels like a classic.
It’s back to the original bangers to close the show, though, with the punked-up rebellion of ‘Time for Heroes’ providing a penultimate rush of lairy elation, perfectly setting the stage for the grand finale of ‘Don’t Look Back Into the Sun’, the timeless 2003 single which has since been immortalised in beloved British sitcoms ‘Gavin & Stacey’ and ‘The Inbetweeners’. The crowd chant along to its iconic riff before singing every word back to Doherty and Barât as they share a microphone for the final time this evening.
It’s a wonderful moment which illustrates that, for all their troubles back in the day, The Libertines remain the great survivors of indie sleaze. And as Powell leads a chant of 'Free Palestine' to close the show, it’s clear that the band will be judged kindly by history, too.
On every level, The Libertines are a prime example of how a cult band can not only stay relevant, but rediscover what made them great in the first place.
Words by Ben Left
Photo Credit: Mike Massaro / Hello Content
