A Time For Heroes? Not Quite..

For the past six years, the Libertines have been my favourite band. A little part of me changed forever when I first heard 'Don't Look Back Into The Sun' just after their demise in 2004. The chaotic, melodic mess coming out of the speakers suddenly made 50 Cent's 'In Da Club' (the sort of genius that was probably doing the rounds on my CD player around the age of 15) sound rather less relevant.

I spent the next few years buying vast arrays of trilby hat's and wearing shoes so pointy I'm surprised I didn't take someone's eye out in an attempt to resemble the then skeletal, crack-addled genius that is Mr Peter Doherty. After realising around the age of 17 it probably wasn't a good look, possibly due to a new found sense of self-consciousness after a delightful young man in a Magaluf street (don't ask) shouted, "Ay mate, you gay or summat?" to which his friend kindly pointed out, "Nah, it's all Kooks n that shit, innit".

For me, they took everything that is great about the past thirty years of British rock 'n' roll and made it their own. The raucous, 100 mph energy of the Pistols and the Clash mixed perfectly with the quintessenially British lyrical romanticism of the Kinks, the Smiths and Blur. The relationship between Doherty and Barat was captivating and led to the greatest rock 'n' roll story of a generation involving guerilla gigs, burglaries, drugs, prison, break ups, great shows and no shows. It's not hard to see how they won the hearts of a generation disillusioned with the post-Britpop and Nu-Metal wankery taking over the airwaves at the time.

You can therefore imagine my excitement when on a quiet night in earlier this year I found out the rumours were true, after a six year break-up the Libertines would be reforming for Reading and Leeds. Many people I spoke to seemed dubious to whether it was a good thing. Would they turn up? Would the magic still be there? Would it be an on-stage, hour long car crash? Nevertheless, I went ahead and bought a day ticket (my decision made all the easier as Arcade Fire were playing straight after, who I may add put on possibly the greatest show I have ever witnessed).

I entered the soulless site that is Reading Festival on the Saturday morning, dodging twats selling the energy drink Relentless screaming relentlessly in people's faces with David Guetta's gruesome dance drivel booming out of their van and practically falling over with shock at some of the quotes from my fellow festival goers, "Libertines are shit, I'm just here for Limp Bizkit!". Indeed.

After watching an underwhelming Modest Mouse set on the main stage, the captivating Chapel Club in the Festival Republic tent (greatness surely looms) and the ever reliable hype man Dizzee Rascal, the stage was set.

Opening with the ramshackle, fan favourite 'Horrorshow', they played an hour long greatest hits including 'Can't Stand Me Now', 'Up The Bracket', 'Tell The King' and 'Don't Look Back Into The Sun'. On the surface everything was perfect. They turned up on time, they were tight, they looked great, Carl and Pete's trademarks such as the sharing of the mic were there and they left the stage to rapturous applause from their devoted following.

Despite this, I couldn't help but feel slightly disappointed as I walked away. I had expected it would go one of two ways; a Stone-Roses-in-96-eque catastrophic car crash or a legendary, triumphant return of the most important British band of recent years. I didn't account for the possibility it would be just, well.. quite good. It didn't seem right hearing these songs that have played such a huge part in my youth played on such a grand, impersonal scale. Their sound didn't suit the size of the venue and I just felt there was something quite stiff and flat about the performace. It just seemed slightly unLibertine to me.

Maybe it is me with the problem. Maybe I have spent so much time eulogizing the band over the years I was expecting too much? Am I being unreasonable to expect to be able to see a band with fans of millions play in some toilet in Whitechapel like 'back in the day'? Probably. And despite being slightly underwhelmed by it all, it was still great to finally hear those songs sung live as a full band.

The general consensus in the media has been that they 'pulled it off' and it would be unfair to protest otherwise but that old saying 'you should never meet your heroes' has been ringing true ever since, if in a different context. Hopefully off the back of this will be a nationwide tour of more intimate, career defining shows that will piss on everything I have written here. I do hope so.