It is one of their most loved classic songs, but Arctic Monkeys haven't played it live for ten years. But when the opening chords of Mardy Bum, one of the stand-out tunes from their debut album back from 2005, began filling Ashton Gate Stadium in Bristol, the already-fevered crowd went abso-blimmin-lutely ballistic.
And from there on in, Alex Turner and his bandmates had almost 30,000 people in the palms of their hands, introducing newer tracks, dropping in old school bangers and lifting the lid on the stadium that only normally sees 'limbs' like that with a last minute winner for Bristol City.
This was the first stop in the UK and Ireland leg of Arctic Monkeys' European tour. They've done the miles on the autobahns of the continent earlier this month, but now this Sheffield band, who exploded onto the scene 18 years ago, are on home turf, with a stadium show that is the only concert at Ashton Gate this summer.
Read next: Arctic Monkeys at Ashton Gate Bristol - best 17 pictures
Since Bristol City's home ground was rebuilt seven years ago, and since a summer series of concerts first began in the late pre-pandemic times, I've been lucky enough to go to every single one. I've seen everyone from The Killers and Muse to the Spice Girls, Take That and Elton John. I've seen the more experienced concert-goer sway to Rod Stewart, I've seen Tom Morello from Rage Against The Machine try to blast the floodlights from their hinges with an electric guitar.
Muse were louder, The Killers had a bigger stage show, Elton had a stairlift and costume changes, and all were great in their own way, but I have never seen a crowd go so wild as when Arctic Monkeys dropped in one of their faster hits.
The band, who were just 18 or 19 when they went straight in at number one with their very first single release, have a devoted, passionate fanbase. If Spice Girls and Take That were fun singalongs, this was a full-on religious experience. People were screaming, yelling along to all the songs at the tops of their voices. All over the pitch, everywhere you looked, there were mosh pits. There were bodies leaping about, bouncing in unison as the hits kept coming.
To start with Mardy Bum was like one of those moments you see on social media reels, where a long lost relative suddenly makes a surprise appearance. It was the first time the band had played it since 2013. It was the first time they'd played the original album version since 2007. Arctic Monkeys fans had basically given up thinking they'd ever hear it live again, and most had almost certainly never heard it played live before. And yet, there it was, the teenage Alex Turner's kitchen sink drama of a lad gently complaining about his partner's grumpiness. There was audible shock and gasps from the crowd, then pure joy as such a familiar tune engulfed them.
From there on in, the Sheffield lads could be forgiven anything. Even the newer, more mellow stuff was welcomed if for nothing else than a collective breather. Then they were at it again, after Crying Lightning and Why'd You Only Call Me When You're High? raising the roof, the band dropped in My Propeller, from the Humbug album - it was the first time the band played that one for nine years.
The band have such a catalogue to dip in to, and in some ways that has been a criticism levelled at them. Many fans who say they love Arctic Monkeys only actually love the first two albums - something which is true for many a band that are six or eight albums in and 20 years on the clock. When The Killers came to Ashton Gate they effectively played pretty much the same set they would have played if they came in the mid-noughties - crowd pleasers that everyone knows off that first breakthrough album.
But Arctic Monkeys aren't like that. I think the word is 'uncompromising'. So while The Killers put on a show, with crazy audio-visuals, Arctic Monkeys are still gigging. This was a gig. There was no rambling monologues between songs, no quirky covers, no catwalk strolls or acoustic interludes. They strode out and played the songs they wanted to play, and there were a lot of oldies and goodies, with just a sprinkling of songs from the latest album. The only nod towards the direction of Spinal Tap or U2 was the giant descending mirrorball, for last year's single There'd Better Be A Mirrorball of course, and the clever circular screen behind Matt Helders' drum riser, which showed a different camera angle that the two giant side screens. It was reminiscent of the Wicked Witch of the West's method of seeing what Dorothy was up to in the Wizard of Oz, but it worked nicely.
And then, of course, was the vibe. Alex Turner's journey from 19-year-old punk poet to a 37-year-old man coming on stage wearing a cravat is now complete. And while some people might not like that, he clearly doesn't give a hoot what they think. The look was very 70s, from the microphone and the way the big screens had some kind of sun-dried filter on, to Turner's own Evel Knievel meets Vegas-era Elvis, with a huge hair do, big shades and his shirt's wide wing collars very much pointing east and west.
There was time for one or two more from deep into the back catalogue, including a fast and furious I Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor, followed by a glorious climax of R U Mine? and the crowd left happy, exhausted, blessed and sweaty, but happy.
A word too about the support acts - because this was a three-band night. The Hives were suited and booted to get the crowd going with their festival-friendly Swedish pop punk, but before them The Mysterines, a young band from Liverpool, were very much worth the while of getting there early, so if you're seeing Arctic Monkeys on the rest of this tour, make sure you get there for them. They had the sound, the tunes and the swagger, did the Mysterines, and gained thousands of fans who were savvy enough to be in place when the fun started.
