The legend of The Libertines precedes them (link to their broken website; very rock ‘n roll) – just take a look at a few of the news stories about them from the past year or so: drug busts, jail, rehab, riots, bandmates breaking into each other’s flats, and the like.

I saw them at the Paradise last night, with a decidedly young crowd who tried to be as rock ‘n roll as the band. They screamed along to the PA system music in between sets, they flipped off the roadies as a sign of recognition, they moshed as well as they could, and they lit up a joint during the show even though smoking cigarettes is banned, robbing them of their smokescreen, so to speak. And they got kicked out about thirty seconds later. Me, I had my earplugs in and felt like a bit of an old stick in the mud, but I enjoyed the music, delivered with little charisma by their lead singer, Carl Barat (a.k.a. Alan Cumming with a guitar, though the photos don’t do the resemblance justice). They were loud, fast, and sounded like a cross among the Sex Pistols, Pulp, and the Monkees. The sign proclaiming the name of the band in giant letters behind the stage, though, was a little much.