Having been under the weather for the previous few days and still suffering from an infection a very busy O2 Bristol gives Libertines, Babyshambles frontman Doherty a very warm welcome in the spacious environment for an “intimate” acoustic performance. Peter is accompanied onstage by his two rather large dogs who stroll on and make themselves comfortable making the whole thing quite surreal.

I can’t help but feel that playing this kind of show would work so much better in a small compact venue but then a fraction of the people would get in but that’s the way it goes, the O2 is impersonal and cavernous for a one-man acoustic show even if it was a treat to hear some gems played this way by a writer who has written some of the best songs and lyrics over the last few decades. Doherty is a genius and it felt a treat and a privilege to witness the man perform in this way. Whilst he might well have been playign to a set list it certainly didn’t feel that way as Peter meanders through the songs finding a comfortable pitch and easing his vocal into the set whist interacting with the audience as shouts go out for favourite songs and classic cuts this is loose as Dylan and Richards and Wood at live aid (go find it) its Libertines heavy in the opening exchanges, ‘Music When The Lights Go Out’ is very early in the set along with a couple of Babyshambles choice cuts with ‘Bollywood To Battersea’ working really well.

Mid set we were treated to a fantastic ramshackled ‘Can’t Stand Me Now’ where the audience found its voice and joined Doherty for the best song written by anyone in the UK for decades. As we headed into the homestraight and Peters voice was showing little signs of wear that had him postpone a show a few days earlier ‘Don’t Look Back’, ‘Time For Heroes’, ‘What Katie Did’ went down a treat before ‘Last Of The English Roses’ was aired along with a new song entitled ‘The Barons Claw’.

Possibly the best song of the night was an epic version of ‘French Dog Blues’ before ‘Albion’ kissed goodnight to a really chilled night out where I witnessed people jostling in the pit to a one man acoustic evening which was cool. To be fair I love his lyrics and I’ll take his music be it with a rock and roll band or ensemble of musicians as well as on his lonesome. Peter Doherty is a poet and one of the United Kingdoms finest songwriters and to him stripped bare like this was a real treat.

Author: Dom Daley


The much-anticipated trip over the bridge to watch The Chats at the Bristol O2 had finally come, after being postponed a number of times due to COVID the place was finally packed full of mullets and Aussie brilliance.

The First support band Dennis Cometti (named after a retired sports commentator) started the carnage as a people crowd surfed their way to the front to ‘on the sauce’ (which is still on repeat in my head) A perfect setup for the evening to come.

After a stop at the bar, Londoners ‘Chubby & The Gang’ send the O2 mental with their souped-up UK HC. It seemed to go by in a flash of strobe lighting, dry ice and dimly lit red lights. With a mix of songs from both albums, Chubby led his band through a pulverising set that fitted in rather well with tonights up for it crowd. Chubby seemed really pumped and up for it feeding off the pit and onto the O2’s large stage, rather than some grubby little club where this style usually lives and thrives. Tonight Chubby & The Gang brought it on to Bristol and went down a treat.

Before placing ourselves out of the bear pit that is the front stalls and go for the safer option and prime spot on the balcony the lights dimmed and out they flew. In an absolute blur of limbs, The Chats hit the stage hard and the only thing moving faster than the songs was the lighting – strobing like crazy sending the pit wilder than a dozen boxing kangaroos. Everything was played at double, nah triple, nah quadruple speed, It seemed like a Chats classics masterclass. Favourites ‘nambored’, ‘temperature’ and ‘mum stole my darts’ sent the Kungfu kicking kids at the front absolutely mental.

With barely time to take a breathe Mr. Sandwith took a trip on some of the multiple liquids flung towards the stage and lay in the pool of beer that had gathered, in excitement he returned to his feet and smashed out a breakneck ‘smoko’ and their newest song, ‘struck by lightning’ and then it seemed to come to a crashing halt. Equipment was broken and chaos was all around which seems like the best way for a Chats show to go.

What felt like a prime frat house punk rock party Australian style – the set length was perfect it was all over and leaving the salivating mob with ‘Pub feed’ was about right. The crowd was duly told to fuck off and the band legged it. Soaked in beers and a cheerio-o their work tonight was done, Bristol was left to come down from The Chats tornado that just tore the O2 a new one. Until next time from a very, very sweaty O2 g’day and goodnight you bonza bunch of noisy swines.