The Libertines, Academy, Birmingham
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Your support makes all the difference.Three days after The Libertines' singer, Pete Doherty, declared the band's tour cancelled "due to heartbreak", the band appear on stage at Birmingham Academy, looking as though heartbreak is the least of their worries. Whatever made Doherty change his mind about doing the tour, the audience is hell-bent on making the most of it, though the boys on stage have seemed happier. Since The Libertines played this venue two years ago, opening for The Strokes, they have toured the world, leaving a turbulent rock'n'roll chronicle in their wake.
The opening song, "Saga", has never been played live, and is a fast, loud and hard taster of the direction of The Libertines' next album. Doherty, in ripped jeans and shirtless beneath a small leather jacket, roars the words into his mic. By his side, Carl Barât smokes a cigarette while playing fast rhythm guitar, locked in with John Hassall's bass-playing and Gary Powell's drumming. By the second song, "Don't Look Back into the Sun", the 2,700-strong crowd is ecstatic and appears to know every word.
"Aaaaawwllright!" Doherty yells in a Brummie accent before breaking into "Up the Bracket". As the first chord is struck, hundreds of fingers appear, as the audience sings along: "See these two cold fingers, these two crooked fingers/ I'll show you a way to mean no." Later, when Barât takes the lead in "Begging", the instruments follow the patterns of his his voice, from an un-Libertine sweetness to the raving, massed chorus.
Playing their first single, "What a Waster", Barât and Doherty glare at each other from either side of their shared microphone, then for a second look as if they are kissing. True to most Libertines performances, the electricity between the two front men leaves the audience wondering whether their relationship is one of love or hate.
Finally, the four boys stand for a few minutes conferring on stage, until Doherty tells the audience: "That's the lot. No more songs." In the by now steamy Academy, the fans break into their favourite chant, which sounds alarmingly like a football-hooligan sing-along: "Libertiiiinees, Libertiiiinees." They stand their ground until the boys in the band return to the stage and reward them with "Good Old Days". During the last song of the night, "Tell It to the King", Doherty breaks his guitar strings mid-verse and is rescued by the trusty rhythm section, who do an impromptu bass-and-drum break. Throughout the set, Hassall and Powell act as a much-needed anchor to Doherty and Barât's manic performance.
Then, with the guitars thrown to the floor, the last chord of the show comes to an end. Doherty dishes out the band's rider; Powell throws the crowd his drumsticks. And with little bows and waves, The Libertines are gone.
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