Photo: Malina Morgan
It's hard to fathom how a room so beautiful, with such amazing acoustics, was the epicentre of something so gruesome and evil a year ago.
The way in which the city has picked itself up, and opted to bring life back into the venue, shows extraordinary defiance.
The occasion isn't taken lightly by security, punters are patted down thoroughly, and as Jack Jones is on stage for his support set of poetry and song; half are still kept outside as security diligently check everyone. It isn't as overly heavy with police as I suspected, though - it feels like business as usual to an extent.
Jones has the character to charm the attentive Bataclan crowd, and his material appears to translate well across the Channel. They're approving as the Welshman performs the stunning Trampolene single 'Gangway', the kitchen-sink realism of poem's 'Poundland' and 'Health & Wellbeing', and others. The cleverly-written pieces that put him up there as one of the most witty cultural commentators around.
"It'll be fine," says Jones, on a couple of occasions, quashing any residual anxiety and fear anyone might have. He leaves the stage reminding us that "Peter Doherty is about to come on stage and blow our minds,".... and that he does.
It's difficult to imagine a better frontman to expel bad energy than Peter Doherty. He takes the show by the scruff of the neck; rising to the occasion with a generous rock 'n' roll spirit from the off.
Doherty's helped by the addition of Jack Jones, who has Nick Alexander scribbled across his bare chest in respect to the British merchandise manager killed, as his new guitarist. It allows the singer the opportunity to explore leading the band free of the weight of an axe around his shoulder, to a more of an extent that he's ever done before. As such, the crowd are treated to numerous mic stands, a harmonica, a microphone, and a guitar being thrown in to the pit. He's on playful form, and shows a lot of trust in his audience, who graciously return anything thrown in. The selflessness is inspiring.
A real surprise comes when Carl Barat joins Peter Doherty and The Puta Madres (the new name of the band) halfway through 'You're My Waterloo'. He performs the solo and stays on to play a typically raucous rendition of 'Time For Heroes' as the crowd whip up a frenzy.
Barat leaves the stage for the time being as the Puta Madres to resume their positions, and passionately glide through their beautifully diverse set.
The stand out cut of the evening is 'Hell To Pay At The Gates Of Heaven' that's lifted from his forthcoming solo album, Hamburg Demonstrations. In an interview with Matt Wilkinson at the NME earlier this year, Doherty said: "It’s about the fucking Bataclan.”
“About how we’re under attack. At that age, when you’re desperate to fight for something it can catch you off balance. When you’ve got the faith and belief, you’ll put as much into it as a lad who’s obsessed with guitars. So the lyric is, ‘Come on boys, choose your weapons / J-45 or an AK-47?’ Both take dedication and belief. To fight, or to make music.”
The sincerity with which he delivers these words shows self-confidence in what he's written as now more than ever are these verses important. It shows why this band make so much sense as the one's to bring le Bataclan back to the people in all its former glory.
Barat joins the band again in the encore for 'Up The Bracket' causing crowdsurfing and a moshpit to break out. The energy is immense. The band are victorious on every level. But the real winners are the French people, who’ve come out to pay respect for those who died or have had life changing injuries as a result of the attacks. They're honouring in the most appropriate way possible, which is sharing in what the victims enjoyed the most in life: having a great time at a rock ‘n’ roll gig.
The way in which the city has picked itself up, and opted to bring life back into the venue, shows extraordinary defiance.
The occasion isn't taken lightly by security, punters are patted down thoroughly, and as Jack Jones is on stage for his support set of poetry and song; half are still kept outside as security diligently check everyone. It isn't as overly heavy with police as I suspected, though - it feels like business as usual to an extent.
Jones has the character to charm the attentive Bataclan crowd, and his material appears to translate well across the Channel. They're approving as the Welshman performs the stunning Trampolene single 'Gangway', the kitchen-sink realism of poem's 'Poundland' and 'Health & Wellbeing', and others. The cleverly-written pieces that put him up there as one of the most witty cultural commentators around.
"It'll be fine," says Jones, on a couple of occasions, quashing any residual anxiety and fear anyone might have. He leaves the stage reminding us that "Peter Doherty is about to come on stage and blow our minds,".... and that he does.
It's difficult to imagine a better frontman to expel bad energy than Peter Doherty. He takes the show by the scruff of the neck; rising to the occasion with a generous rock 'n' roll spirit from the off.
Doherty's helped by the addition of Jack Jones, who has Nick Alexander scribbled across his bare chest in respect to the British merchandise manager killed, as his new guitarist. It allows the singer the opportunity to explore leading the band free of the weight of an axe around his shoulder, to a more of an extent that he's ever done before. As such, the crowd are treated to numerous mic stands, a harmonica, a microphone, and a guitar being thrown in to the pit. He's on playful form, and shows a lot of trust in his audience, who graciously return anything thrown in. The selflessness is inspiring.
A real surprise comes when Carl Barat joins Peter Doherty and The Puta Madres (the new name of the band) halfway through 'You're My Waterloo'. He performs the solo and stays on to play a typically raucous rendition of 'Time For Heroes' as the crowd whip up a frenzy.
Barat leaves the stage for the time being as the Puta Madres to resume their positions, and passionately glide through their beautifully diverse set.
The stand out cut of the evening is 'Hell To Pay At The Gates Of Heaven' that's lifted from his forthcoming solo album, Hamburg Demonstrations. In an interview with Matt Wilkinson at the NME earlier this year, Doherty said: "It’s about the fucking Bataclan.”
“About how we’re under attack. At that age, when you’re desperate to fight for something it can catch you off balance. When you’ve got the faith and belief, you’ll put as much into it as a lad who’s obsessed with guitars. So the lyric is, ‘Come on boys, choose your weapons / J-45 or an AK-47?’ Both take dedication and belief. To fight, or to make music.”
The sincerity with which he delivers these words shows self-confidence in what he's written as now more than ever are these verses important. It shows why this band make so much sense as the one's to bring le Bataclan back to the people in all its former glory.
Barat joins the band again in the encore for 'Up The Bracket' causing crowdsurfing and a moshpit to break out. The energy is immense. The band are victorious on every level. But the real winners are the French people, who’ve come out to pay respect for those who died or have had life changing injuries as a result of the attacks. They're honouring in the most appropriate way possible, which is sharing in what the victims enjoyed the most in life: having a great time at a rock ‘n’ roll gig.
