we’re going nowhere, but nowhere’s on our way …

The Libertines, September 2015

The Libertines, September 2015

When The Libertines announced that they’d be playing ‘intimate venues’ a week ago, I was very skeptical about what that actually meant. I also thought it was too good to be true after seeing them in Hyde Park last July, where they were on top, gloriously fucked, form. Hyde Park has the space for up to one hundred and fifty thousand people to come and watch. Whereas Rock City can hold two and a half thousand at a push. So the tickets were in demand…

Whoever markets the Libertines saw the perfect opportunity to lift people from their post summer blues and hand them a chance to improve their year. And a chance to get ‘Anthems For Doomed Youth’ to be pre-ordered by thousands. That guy is currently very very smug. Who knows, maybe it was the boys in the band themselves.

Despite their surge of festival sets over the summer, which i’ve heard to be somewhat ‘underwhelming’ at times, Rock City was something else. Everyone at that gig wanted to be there. It felt as if no time had passed since the Libertines split almost ten years ago, and the moment they walked out on stage we knew that they would be making a comeback like no others.

Carl and Pete were sharing the mic, Gary was applauded by a sea of beer covered fans chanting his name, and John looked a bit confused by the whole affair, but when Pete decided to launch himself into the crowd, he got his phone out and took a picture.

Without ranting about how incredible the new record is going to be, I can safely say that everyone there last night was part of something special. It was the perfect way to say goodbye to Derbyshire and my teenage years.

‘Here’s a story about the rules of death and glory
To be learned by heart by all children of men
It’s the hour of the morning on the day after the dawning
When the sun they said would never set finally set again
Was it Cromwell or Orwell who first led you to the stairwell
Which leads only forever to kingdom come
Rushed alone by guiding hands whispers of the promised land
They wished you luck and handed you a gun
Life could be so handsome
Life could be so gay
We’re going nowhere
But nowhere, nowhere’s on our way…’


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