A POSTCARD FROM LUCIE BARAT: A JOURNEY THROUGH LONDON’S INDIE HEARTBEAT
In the heart of London, amid the smoky haze of early 2000s indie gigs and the relentless hum of a city that never sleeps, Lucie Barat navigated her youth with a mix of determination and defiance. Standing in the Shadows of Giants, Lucie’s evocative play, captures her tumultuous journey, from sharing a flat with her brother Carl Barât during his meteoric rise with The Libertines, to her own battles with obscurity, identity and addiction.
Lucie’s story is set against the backdrop of a vibrant yet unforgiving London. A city where minimum wage jobs and odd auditions were the norm and where the sudden fame of her brother—once the black sheep of the family—threw her into a whirlwind of self-reflection and struggle. Her play is a comic and poignant recount of dodging exes, fending off sycophants, and navigating the free bar’s temptations, ultimately leading her to rehab and a profound acceptance of her sexuality.
Interwoven with an original soundtrack co-written with Carl and Pete Doherty, Lucie’s live performances bring the raw energy of that era to the stage, offering a nostalgic yet inspiring glimpse into the London indie scene.
Now, with her brother’s band, The Libertines, topping charts again with their No. 1 album All Quiet on the Eastern Esplanade, Lucie reflects on her past with a blend of humour and insight.
Her favourite London hangouts, from iconic pubs to hidden cafes, paint a vivid picture of a city that shaped her—and continues to inspire her creative journey.
A POSTCARD FROM LUCIE BARAT: A JOURNEY THROUGH LONDON’S INDIE HEARTBEAT
Hello from London, where the memories of the early 2000s indie scene are as alive in my mind as the iconic venues that defined it. Back then, London felt like our own playground, a city where we could stake a claim to something raw and real amidst the polished pop acts that dominated the charts. There was a tangible energy in the air—like we were part of an underground movement that was bubbling up from the streets of Camden, Soho, and Hoxton.
I remember living with my brother Carl during the early Libertines days, first in a basement flat on Camden Road and later in a chaotic flat share on Harley Street. It was a revolving door of musicians, actors, and all the eccentric characters that made London feel electric. Those flats were creative hubs where spontaneous parties and impromptu writing sessions were as common as trips to the local off-licence. The city buzzed with a sense of possibility, and each postcode carried its unique vibe, whether it was the edgy streets of Bethnal Green or the central convenience of Harley Street. It was a time of shared aspirations and that infectious feeling that anything was possible.
We had our favourite spots, of course—haunts that are etched into my memory like scenes from a film. The Rhythm Factory, Bar Fly, Medicine Bar, and the Phoenix Bar, where we’d mix with actors fresh from their West End gigs. The Arts Club was another regular hangout, brimming with thespians and poets. The vibe was gritty and authentic, and nobody cared if you were famous or unknown. We were all there for the music, the laughter, and the creative spark that seemed to ignite in the smoky back rooms of those beloved pubs and clubs.
The parties were wild, unforgettable, and sometimes a little blurry. They weren’t about celebrity but about living in the moment, about singing along with strangers at a Wetherspoons in Soho or crashing some late-night hole-in-the-wall in Chinatown, accessible only through a trap door. I remember some incredible nights where actors and musicians mingled effortlessly, a strange blend of creative chaos. The early days of Standing in the Shadows… capture that spirit—those nights of youthful dreaming before any of us knew who would make it big or where we’d all end up.
Today, I see a London that feels more polished, a bit tamer, but there are still pockets of the old grit and character to be found. I recently performed at the Omnibus Theatre in Clapham, a fantastic venue that feels like a nod to the days when fringe theatres and underground gigs ruled the city. There’s a real sense of community there, with live music, exhibitions, and cabaret shows on rotation. I can see myself running a space like that one day, a place that brings people together through art, music, and theatre.
But even as London changes, I love returning to my old haunts. My brother Carl and I have talked about having a “nostalgia day,” where we hit up a matinee, check out the surviving spots from our youth, and maybe end the night with a late bite at Balans on Old Compton Street. For all that London has evolved, there’s a certain magic here that remains constant. It’s a city that shapes you, that challenges you, and that never lets you forget where you came from.
For young artists navigating the London of today, my advice is simple: find your people. Build your scene, collaborate, and don’t be afraid to make your mark. We did it with theatre residencies, gig nights, and exhibitions—all because we ignored the naysayers and asked for a shot. London rewards those who are bold enough to carve out their own spaces, so embrace the city and let it shape your story.
Until next time,
Lucie
