In a year where reunions from the noughties’ greats have come by the dozen, few are more exciting than The Libertines coming together for the final stop of their All Quiet on the Eastern Esplanade campaign.
Their West-London extravaganza, made up of their headline slot and a myriad of support, came just shy of a year and a half after the release of their chart-topping fourth studio album, and just three months after frontman Peter Doherty’s solo album Felt Better Alive graced the alternative circuit. For long-term fans of ‘The Likely Lads’, their Gunnersbury Park slot was the final hurrah, and a date no one wanted to miss.
From the arrival of Real Farmer, who kicked off the day with a burst of pent-up punk energy, to Brighton-based duo Lambrini Girls and Hak Baker, who reflected the early-August sunshine in both his stage presence and signature ska-inspired beats, the daytime line up was a celebration of some of the UK’s biggest talent in recent years.
Not before long, Soft Play arrived to conflate their unique, two-man hardcore punk act with a softness that is often seen as contradictory to the category. From the raucous ‘Mirror Muscles’ and ‘Act Violently’ to their heartstring-tugging ‘Everything And Nothing’ and ‘Heavy Jelly’, their set was a poignant one, centred firmly around politics, patriarchy, and Palestine, perhaps proving that, unlike their 2024 single, punk isn’t dead but instead needed more than ever.
As the sun dipped low, Supergrass bounded on stage, priming the 25,000-strong crowd for a night stacked with indie classics and unspoiled nostalgia. Sporting classics from their 1995 debut, I Should Coco, such as the feel-good jumpstarter ‘Alright’ and ‘Caught By The Fuzz’, to their 1999 single ‘Moving’, the set was one that embraced all eras of the Oxford foursome’s discography, reaffirming Britpop’s stronghold on popular culture.
As the crowd swelled to capacity, the moment everyone had been waiting for finally arrived. Backdrops of the Albion Rooms—once a B&B, now a residential recording studio in Margate, and also the name of the frontmen’s shared Bethnal Green flat during The Libertines’ early days—framed the stage as Doherty, Barât, Hassall, and Powell stepped out one by one.
Not known for being calm, the set pulled no punches from the very start, with some of their earliest material (‘Up The Bracket’,‘The Delaney’, and ‘Boys in the Band’) roughing up the crowd and igniting a tangible longing for a return to the early noughties; a time dominated by stories of the band’s rambunctious antics that each track somehow still manages to encapsulate, 20-something years on.
The night quickly felt like a real celebration of London, the city they formed in and have centred so many of their anecdotal anthems around. Fanfare interludes, a rendition of Pet Shop Boys’ ‘West End Girls’, and Doherty joking about driving in a Mustang through Shepherd’s Bush, there was a visceral feeling of comfort and pride in their home country.
However, nuanced and quick-witted as The Libertines are, deviation from their Albion-obsessed early work emerged in ‘Merry Old England’, a scathing critique of the country’s treatment of refugees and asylum seekers. This track, from their most recent record, was a much-welcomed and impassioned addition to their setlist, showing that positive forms of patriotism can coexist with critical discourse.
Witnessing the two frontmen unite on the mic and jam with one another during instrumentals offered a heartwarming side to the set, something fans from the very beginning of their meteoric rise and often turbulent relationship have delighted in witnessing all these years on.
Continuing to mix staples within their repertoire (namely ‘Death on the Stairs’, ‘Music When The Lights Go Out’, and the pre-encore finisher ‘Can’t Stand Me Know’) with contemporary cuts (such as ‘Baron’s Claw’ and the euphoric ‘Run Run Run’), the second half of their setlist showcased how their unmatched poeticism and on-stage synergy has the power to overcome any past doubts or tabloid attacks.
After a brief adjournment, the demand for an encore was nearly as intense as for their opening set, with murmurs through the crowd promising a five-song return. From their disruptive 2002 single, ‘What a Waster’, to the introspective 2018 hit, ‘Gunga Din’, there wasn’t a track that missed the mark or failed to maintain the crowd’s adoring gaze.
After reminding the audience all these years on not to look back into the sun, The Libertines cast their farewells, taking a bow with their wider assemblage under the stage beams.
While All Quiet on the Eastern Esplanade reinforced the confidence that the band isn’t going anywhere anytime soon, their Gunnersbury Park set, charged with Albion pride, proved why they remain enduring legends and quietly reminded us of the unity needed to keep the UK’s cultural fabric alive.
Words by Ruby Brown
Support The Indiependent
We’re trying to raise £200 a month to help cover our operational costs. This includes our ‘Writer of the Month’ awards, where we recognise the amazing work produced by our contributor team. If you’ve enjoyed reading our site, we’d really appreciate it if you could donate to The Indiependent. Whether you can give £1 or £10, you’d be making a huge difference to our small team.