A new… technically old venue tonight for me at The Cavern Club in Liverpool. Maybe not quite the venue made famous by The Beatles, more of an extension next door, but it’s still pretty cool, if not a bit odd. There’s a chance to have a mosey around the original venue and all the memorabilia, which is everywhere! Liverpool loves a bit of history and we have a quick listen to a bloke playing Beatles covers in the tourist trap before Short Straw, the first support come on. We’re far from the territory of headliners The Libertines here, but they’re not bad. With a drummer and a backing track of buzz guitars, lyrics are delivered through vitriolic punk shouts by a front woman in a tracky top. She knows this might not be everyone’s bag, “Throw something at me if you don’t like it, I don’t care”, but I do like it, it’s bouncy and sounds decent in this small space. No one throws anything, so the crowd that’s filling up must like it too. I need to hear more of this.
Saint Leonard up next are something different again. 80s flecked soft pop rock with synths, fronted by a bloke that looks like Julian Assange in a suit from a Duran Duran video. That might sound like a bad thing depending on your perspective, but he looks pretty fucking cool and he’s got a decent set of pipes. Speaking of which the lad in the red beret that’s been pecking at the synth and wrestling a guitar, breaks out a saxophone for some bizarre soloing, like I say very 80s. It’s a bit avant garde in places, which I’m here for but it’s a hard sell for a Libs crowd. The lads in front of me won’t stop talking which is fucking annoying. This is often an issue at gigs though, because y’know, people are arseholes. Again I need to hear more.
What comes next is a total and utterly wonderful blur. It’s now packed as the returning Libertines take to the tiny stage on this tour comprising of intimate venues. There’s not at atom of free space in here and one mass of bodies surge as classic song after classic song reverberates around the room. Arms are aloft, some bravely with phones attached at the end as drinks fly, smiles are shared and limbs entwine. It’s instantly clear that this is going to be a special night, a special gig, with a special band. Pete’s in a flasher mac, Carl in vintage leather. They share the mic and tear through an incredible set, backed perfectly by the engine from Johns bass and Gary’s drums. As each song finishes, looks of amazed joy are shared. I try to raise my hands to clap, but there’s no space. The person next to you forever changing. I spot the Norwegian fella that earlier kept telling me he was happy, flailing around in the pit of bodies in front of me. He still looks happy. The band sound magnificent, Pete and Carl have lost none of the energy, both voices perfect as they trade lines and the crowd back them up, singing every single word. It calms slightly for the new songs, but stuff like ‘Shiver’ slips nicely into the set, sounding completely at home. ‘Can’t Stand Me Now’ feels like a real moment with Pete smiling, tie tied around his head like an indie ninja and ‘Time for Heroes’ is worth the battle to get these tickets alone. By the time we get to ‘The Good Old Days’ and its brief interlude of ‘Twist & Shout’ I’m soaked and looking forward to seeing them again in a fortnight in Leeds. They finish with the rousing ‘Don’t Look Back Into the Sun’ leaving The Cavern ecstatic. I’ve seen them in massive venues that have threatened to swallow them in the past, but tonight in Liverpool, in a tiny venue they made perfect sense. Magical.
