The Wombats have been a mainstay of British festivals and O2 academies across the country for almost 20 years. It’s almost unbelievable that, in 2025, they’re storming the stage at a very busy O2 Arena.
There’s indie guitar bands from the same era - Two Door Cinema Club and The Vaccines to name a couple - who just wouldn’t be able to shift that amount of tickets.
The gig is packed with people, like me, in their late twenties and early thirties who are busy throwing their pints in the air and reliving their teenage years. But people aren’t just here for Inbetweeners-soundtrack nostalgia.
Thanks to the band going viral on TikTok in 2021 with Greek Tragedy, and the slightly more mainstream pop direction they’ve headed in over the years, there are also reams of teenagers in the standing area who were babies when the band’s first album, A Guide to Love, Loss and Desperation was released. And they’re creating mosh pits to every song they can - something The Wombats only encourage.
Sorry I’m Late I Didn’t Want To Come, the lead single from their latest album, is a tongue-in-cheek way to start the show. But all hell breaks loose when they switch it up a gear into noughties classic Moving To New York. This is kind of how the whole show goes, there’s tracks from their more recent albums, which, while solid tracks, receive a more subdued reaction.
And then people totally lose their minds at floor-fillers from their first two albums: Techno Fan, Let’s Dance To Joy Division, Tokyo (Vampires and Wolves). Like Taylor Swift with democracy, fans have been voting for a surprise song each evening. The lads joke that they don’t know the lyrics to the dream-like 1996 - but it doesn’t matter, because the rest of the arena does.
It's impossible not to enjoy. The whole way through, The Wombats are having a laugh. Murph is a charismatic frontman, but it’s simply quite incredible quite how much energy bassist Tord has zipping around the stage. (A special mention must also go the man dressed in a wombat suit, who joined them for a trumpet solo during Ready For The High.)
Without doubt the highlight of the gig is when they get the crowd chanting to Tales of Girls and Boys and Marsupials - only for it to be a ruse, it’s an intro to anthem Kill The Director. They have to restart the song, as Murph’s beloved guitar “shits the bed”.
It only adds to the madness, and the crowd get more hyped up to scream: “THIS IS NO BRIDGET JONES” over and over again. For Let's Dance To Joy Division, the lads are joined on stage by more people dressed in wombats suits, knee sliding and pretending to perform guitar solos. It adds to the ridiculousness; the wombat suits are at every show, it’s never not funny.
They say they're going to pretend it's the last song, before they come back for the encore. They then perform Can't Say No and Turn (perhaps less popular choices for an encore) before TikTok hit Greek Tragedy is the last song, and coloured balloons fill the O2 for a whimsical end to the show.
The Wombats don’t take themselves seriously, and that’s their charm. There’s a reason they’re able to play such a huge set so many years on - they are masters of what they do: infectious indie pop, with fun, ridiculous lyrics. Sometimes they’re more synthy, sometimes they’re more rock - the show’s vibe completely changed for the moody Kate Moss, off their latest album - but their formula hasn't really changed that much. And long may it continue.
