I actually took my diary up to the Wirral yesterday in the vague and misguided hope that I would be in a fit state to actually document our trip and therefore be able to use a different title for once, rather than the rather dull ‘home’ description that has been omnipresent all year.
Mr P and Mr and Mrs H and I reached the hotel in the Wirral at about 3pm after driving through torrential rain beneath grey and stormy skies. The hotel was just a Travelodge so it was basic but clean and comfortable and only four miles from the Tranmere Rovers stadium where were going to watch The Libertines supported by Reverend and the Makers and The Coral.
Luckily, there was a larger hotel over the road which had a bar serving pub grub, a gym (yeah, right) and a Starbucks so after a quick bite of cheesy fries, we jumped in a cab and headed to Prenton Park. I must say, it was a bit sketchy the closer we got to the stadium. There were many rough looking, flat-roofed pubs along the way and after a rigorous bag search, we got in to find that we were surrounded by some rum types who seemed to be coked off their tits, to be honest. However, after sinking a couple of drinks, I began to relax and enjoy the gig. Miraculously, not one spot of rain fell all evening which definitely made things more bearable.
The Libertines themselves were brilliant – super tight and sounding exactly as they do on record. The crowd however seemed to let them down. It was almost like the people there had just come for the day out and didn’t really care much about the music on offer. The only time it really went off was for the last three songs in their encore which is so strange for such an energetic band with a plethora of stomping anthems. Weird. What was even weirder though was that halfway through the Reverend and the Makers set, Mr Jeremy Corbyn was welcomed on stage! I could scarcely believe my eyes. He went on to deliver a rousing speech about the importance of sport to communities (wisely choosing not to divulge his preferred football team) and the significance of grass roots music and keeping independent venues open. It was brilliant and apart from a rogue scouse lilt entering his diction, I thought it was marvellous and probably the highlight of my day. Of course, I think he was preaching to the converted but once the crowd started chanting his name and filming it before doubtless uploading it to some sort of social media outlet, I thought what a genius move it was. Good old Jezza. I do hope he swings a victory on June 8th.