The Libertines show felt more like a rehearsal – and we were the creepy fans spying

MUSIC
The Libertines ★★★
Forum Melbourne, April 15

Reverend and The Makers kicked things off with the energy of a band that knew they had a mission: to get us pumped for The Libertines. And pumped we were. Jon McClure swaggered through the brilliant Heavyweight Champion of the World and Heatwave in the Cold North with the charisma of a very expensive horse.

So we were primed and excited to welcome The Libertines – who certainly arrived, and also played their songs. That was good, because they write damned good songs. After Britpop got bloated and slow, The Libertines came and saved UK indie, and for that I will be eternally grateful. Also, Can’t Stand Me Now is the greatest male duet ever recorded, so if you haven’t heard it, do yourself a favour.

Unfortunately, their stage presence was, at best, minimalist. They didn’t acknowledge the audience until over 45 minutes into the show, and then only by saying “Good morning, Melbourne”.

Despite feeling less like we were at a show than we were creepy fans peeking through the window at a very well-lit rehearsal, live music still has a special magic, and it is always worth bearing witness to the ritual. The Libertines stormed through almost all of their genuinely excellent new album All Quiet on the Eastern Esplanade. Where other bands might hide behind their old hits like creepy fans hiding beneath a rehearsal-room window-ledge, our likely lads boldly ploughed through almost every track from their new offering.

They also gave us the lion’s share of their back catalogue bangers. We couldn’t help but “Shoop shoop, shoop delang-alang” along with What Katie Did, and when brilliantly rocking numbers like Time for Heroes, What a Waster and Up the Bracket hit, the crowd was united in passionate dance.

The classic Libertines performative magic was still in evidence, too. I will always adore it when Pete Doherty and Carl Barât lean in close to each other to harmonise on the same mic, and Gary Powell’s powerhouse drumming was a particular highlight of the evening. He also played between-song solos that served as a form of communication with the crowd in the absence of talking. Unfortunately, no matter how well a drum kit is played, it isn’t a great substitute for human connection.

Happily, as the sublime Don’t Look Back into the Sun drew the show to a close, that connection started to emerge. The band seemed to be enjoying playing it, the crowd were going mad for it, and Powell even thanked us for being there, but only after the rest of the band had silently left the stage.
Reviewed by Andrew McClelland