There is a timeless quality in the washing away of other people’s sweat from yourself after a gig. That first moment of reflection. A lingering smile. The repeating lyrics of the closing song are still echoing round and round. 

Don’t look back into the sun… Now you know that the time is come…

It’s timeless because this very moment has been shared by innumerable other people. The riotous old days of The Libertines now seem an intangible myth. And yet here I am. Feeling the exact same things that they did all those years ago.

The water keeps on gushing over me. Don’t want to take any chances about the contents of that flying pint. But as the filth washes away, I think over every detail. From the moment I walked into O2 Academy, I knew I was in for an entertaining night.

The Liverpudlian Zuzu preempts the mood of the evening with a scintillating opening act of catchy indie rock. Her fifteen minutes on stage allow for a whirlwind showcase of both her songwriting skill and endearing crowd work. ‘Spy Balloon’, in particular, shows her talent for instantly singable indie pop hooks. An excellent start. 

During the interlude, Ed Cosens takes to the stage, to provide some soulful, acoustic entertainment.  Reminiscent of fellow Sheffielder Richard Hawley, Cosens’ rich voice reigns in the night’s excitement, making sure to not let the pot boil over too soon.

Moments later, and the arrival of Real Farmer. The Dutch four-piece shatter the calm with an explosion of punk noise, made all the more captivating by the oxymoronic combination of the singer’s Jim-Morrison-esque look, and vocals more akin to Iggy Pop or Idles’ Joe Talbot. For punk enthusiasts, they’re certainly worth checking out. 

A vicious final track, and thoughts turn entirely now to The Libertines. What would they open with? ‘The Delaney’, perhaps? Or a new tune off their recently released All Quiet on the Eastern Esplanade? The set, a façade of The Albion rooms – the recently closed Margate hotel owned by The Libertines and featuring on the album’s cover – looms over us, begging the question. We don’t have to wait long to find out.

Like a loose rodeo bull, the band flails into life. It’s ‘Up the Bracket’. Of course! The title track of the album that started everything. Immediately, The Libertines’ magic is on display. They drunkenly slur through lyrics and guitar lines without ever looking for a moment out of control. It’s as though the frantic dancing of the audience drags the band along with them. Pete Doherty seems to acknowledge this, as he and the crowd share that famously crooked two fingered salute. 

Then it’s into the next one, and the first track off their latest album. ‘I Have a Friend’ sees The Libertines look at modern issues, interspersing their poetic style with mentions of free speech and empty human discourse. There’s no time to ponder these contemporary anxieties however, as the frontmen dive into a vintage guitar solo and the crowd continues to bounce. It’s hard to spot the countless trials and tribulations that litter the years between the two songs. The comradery between the band members is apparently stronger than ever, and their songwriting is, as always, on the money.

What follows is something of a greatest hits setlist, interspersed with new tracks. Some of these new additions prove the more poignant moments of the evening. Doherty takes on a Fagin-like persona for the haunting ‘Baron’s Claw’, and for a moment you could be watching something by Andrew Lloyd Webber. ‘Shiver’ and ‘Run Run Run’ are also welcomed as instant classics by a crowd in full and fine voice. The new album seamlessly weaves its way into the set, helped, it must be said, by The Libertines’ live embellishments that were somewhat lacking in the album’s overly polished production. 

As the final harmonica notes of ‘Can’t Stand Me Now’ die out and the band leaves the stage, we are given a chance to catch our breath. But the crowd is baying for more already. That’s the thing with The Libertines; you simply cannot get sick of their sound. Each song has something interesting; a brilliant guitar line, a witty lyric, a vocal harmony from Doherty and Barât. They aren’t another 2000’s band going through the motions. Instead, there’s more a sense of vocation – this is what these four were meant to be doing. How else would they still be doing it?

The Libertines retake the stage and deliver a seven-track encore that resolutely satisfies any remaining song requests. As countless crowd surfers fly over my head, I find myself under The Libertines’ spell. I think it’s their authenticity that is most captivating. They indulge in the theatrical, the romantic, the poet, the rock star, because they are all these things. As I said, there’s a reason that this band is somehow still performing together, still enthralling audiences, still writing great songs. The Libertines are the real deal. They are as brilliant now as they ever have been, and I think it’s safe to say that for now, the good ship Albion is in steady hands. 

Words by Joseph Macaulay