The Proclaimers

Some parts of London make you feel like you should apologise for arriving by train.

Yesterday was one of those days.

Hammy drove us down to Brentwood where we jumped on the Lizzie Line into Liverpool Street before taking the Circle Line round to Sloane Square for an evening with The Proclaimers.

Now according to certain sections of the right-wing media, London has apparently “fallen”. Society has collapsed. Civilisation is hanging by a thread. Yet after a few hours wandering around Knightsbridge and Chelsea, I’m not entirely convinced the capital’s biggest issue is the one they think it is.

Try turning up there without inherited money and see how welcome you feel.

Honestly, what a dreadful place. £8.50 pints. Flats advertised for £3,250 a month that appear to have been constructed inside a cupboard. People walking around looking permanently irritated that other humans are nearby. And enough Range Rovers to invade Belgium.

There’s this weird atmosphere in parts of West London where you feel less like a visitor and more like an administrative error.

Give me the East End every single time. Proper pubs. Proper people. Places with a bit of noise, life and character about them. Somewhere you can still buy a pint without needing to remortgage a family member.

Thankfully though, once we reached the venue, the entire mood changed.

The concert took place at the Royal Hospital Chelsea, home of the wonderful Chelsea Pensioners, and what a cracking venue it turned out to be. Another brilliant addition to Britain’s growing outdoor concert scene.

Historic surroundings, loads of space, relaxed atmosphere and somewhere that actually felt welcoming rather than carefully curated for people called Tarquin.

You could quite happily spend an evening there even without the music.

Thankfully though, the music was superb as well.

Let’s Get Married

Cap in Hand

Letter from America

Sunshine on Leith

The Proclaimers remain one of the most consistently brilliant live bands around. No gimmicks. No nonsense. Just great songs, sharp lyrics and two brothers who still perform with the same energy and conviction they always have.

And despite certain friends continually insisting they “only have one song”, the setlist once again completely disproved that particular bit of childish rhetoric. Yes, everybody knows 500 Miles, but there’s depth, humour, politics and genuine warmth running throughout their catalogue that most bands would kill for.

The setlist had pretty much everything you’d want. The political bite is still there, the humour still lands and songs you’ve heard hundreds of times somehow still feel fresh live. Sunshine on Leith remains one of the greatest songs any band has ever written and hearing thousands singing it into the night was properly special.

By the time we eventually got home it was nearly 1am. I had every intention of staying up for the Haiti v Scotland World Cup game afterwards.

Instead I fell asleep almost immediately, somewhere between sitting down and locating the remote control.

A tremendous day out all round and I do it all again November.