Carl Barat and Peter Doherty with 1001 Candles
The night had finally arrived for Carl Barat and Peter Doherty to grace the stage of Hackney Empire once again. This time, however, accompanied onstage by 1001 lit candles.
This one-of-a-kind show is part of Somewhere Festival, a new festival focused on cultural excitement and innovation. Born in Tokyo earlier this year, Somewhere Festival is striving to create unique experiences in special venues around the world - and WOW did they achieve this with this, their first international show.
Having excitedly bought tickets for this months ago (and when I say ‘bought’ I mean set an alarm, waited in a ticket queue, and anxiously fought for tickets before they sold out, of course), I was so glad the evening was finally here. For years The Libertines have been my favourite band of all time. They endlessly enchant me with their music, talent, and artistry, and have lead me (stockholm-syndrome-style) to countless stressful online ticket-booking experiences, for pretty much every one of their announced London shows.
In fact, the last time Peter graced the beautiful Hackney Empire stage I was there too. This, in 2016, was with his then newly formed band the Putas Madres, an eclectic mix of musicians and friends, who The Libertines’ bassist John Hassall supported with his new band. With Carl and Gary Powell also in attendance, hanging back and side stage supporting Peter in a different way, this allowed for the gig to magically manifest into a Libertines gig.
Thursday 5th September, 8pm. The wonderfully ornate and theatrical-in-beauty Hackney Empire was the perfect venue to hold the artistry of Carl and Peter, with both their musical body of work and personal relationship so rich in depth and emotion. As well as 1001 candles, the stage somehow found room to inhabit a great assembly of orchestral musicians and backing vocalists to accompany Carl and Peter - transforming many of their classic Libertines ballads into delightfully embellished acoustic numbers. The 2-hour long gig featured the rare songs of Libertines fans’ dreams: Seven Deadly Sins, Ballad of Grimaldi, Radio America, and of course You’re My Waterloo.
The special difference with this being a gig for just the two of them, as oppose to the entirety of The Libertines, was that their individual work was allowed to shine. Taking turns to share the candle-adorned stage, Peter performed such heartfelt numbers as For Lovers (originally with Wolfman) and Albion. In turn, Carl’s So Long My Lover, and Let it Rain, were also given centre-stage attention. With fans so rarely getting the chance, these days, to hear these deeply loved solo masterpieces (Albion in particular), the whole venue was moved. This was particularly special, and moving, because of the bittersweet nature of much of their solo work. Bittersweet, for knowing that its deep beauty, poetry, and therefore success, is the result of the sadness and tragedy that consumed their personal relationship at the time.
Bearing witness to their individual performances, and observing whilst the other intensely watches from the shadows of the side-stage curtains, is fascinating, and blissfully fills me with a sense of achieved resolution. A distant (ecstatic) cry from their relationship that characterised so much of the 2000s.