Photo + Words: Jess Plunkett
“We’ll be back… in another 13 years!”
One thing you can count on at a Babyshambles gig is glorious, poetic, unbridled mayhem… in the best possible way. Their long-awaited return to the stage, having not toured for more than a decade, continued in Liverpool’s Mountford Hall on Saturday, and the city was electric with anticipation. The evening promised nostalgia, punk energy and Pete Doherty’s signature charm.
So, naturally, my night began as it was set to go on; in pure chaos. After confidently queuing in the cold for ten minutes, I was informed I was actually in the wrong line and, apparently, the wrong gig entirely. Eventually though, we found the right building (thank you, Showsec) and it wasn’t long before the first of three support acts hit the stage.
Each support brought their own unique slice of energy, starting with Swansea indie rock band Trampolene. Frontman Jack Jones brought a huge stage presence, their opening track instantly gripping the room. Jones frequently collaborates with Pete Doherty, and their poetic styles are often compared, so it was the obvious choice of support to give a taste of what was to come.
Their energy never faltered as they ended their set with breakthrough track Alcohol Kiss– a high-energy song that earned huge crowd approval. The set concluded with a guitar thrust into the crowd, a shoe or two being thrown and, I must admit, a very impressive impromptu cartwheel off the stage from drummer Kyle Williams.
If the crowd hadn’t heard of Trampolene at the beginning of the set, they certainly did by the end.
Following on was local Liverpool band The Bandits. Every song had a catchy tune you couldn’t help but sing along to, and to top it off they closed their set with a cover of The Clash’s Guns of Brixton. The song was dedicated to anyone mourning a loss, which felt particularly relevant as the room was still feeling the aftershock of former Babyshambles’ guitarist Patrick Walden’s passing earlier this year.
It was almost time for the main event, but not before a soulful performance by local musician Marc McCausland. This short but sweet set was performed entirely acoustic; with nothing but him and his guitar’s melodic tunes filling the space. It was a true testament to his vocal ability and a calming contrast before the room geared up for Babyshambles. And before we knew it… it was time.
Formed in 2003 by Pete Doherty during his hiatus from The Libertines, Babyshambles has long been a household name. And despite their time away, it’s clear to see they have not lost their allure… or their devoted fanbase. The room instantly came alive with cheers as the first note of smash-hit ‘Killamangiro’ rang out.
The set progressed, but the energy did not die down. Every note was sung right back, and the audience clung onto every word Doherty spoke.
Although the atmosphere was high, there was an underlying sense of remembrance throughout the night. There She Goes was dedicated to Amy Winehouse, quietly acknowledging Pete’s past while also highlighting how far he and the band have come since those turbulent years.
But spirits were quickly lifted again when the band broke into a shortened version of What Katie Did, a classic Libertines track. The reaction was immediate. Long-time fans lit up, people hugged and swayed, and for a moment the entire room moved as one.
They also played some new music, dedicating new song ‘Dandy Hooligan’ to, “that tatted man in the crowd”. This was the clearest use of reggae influences all night, complete with playful nods to Liverpool and even a bit of Scouse accent mimicry.
The encore was arguably the most memorable. First up was Pipedown, dedicated to the late Patrick Walden. It was certainly an emotional tribute, with memories of him and the band projected onto the back screen.
And of course they had to finish with Fuck Forever, their biggest track. This was everyone’s last chance to go for it, and go for it they did. The floor was bouncing, beer was thrown, people were crowd surfing, and even from the very back everyone gave it their all for one final farewell. That wrong-queue debacle at the start of the night suddenly felt very trivial.
At least this time, I was in the right place.
Taped Magazine 