An exuberant and emotional journey down memory lane.

“The impossible must be done” sings Robbie in one of my favourite songs of his, the weary ode to the starkness of life’s struggles that is “The Impossible”. They are words that have resonated with me throughout the past few years when life has seemed a relentless barrage of stress, uncertainty and grief. Sometimes, you don’t need mindless positivity or motivational speeches to get you through the difficulties in life – you need words that recognise that yes, everything is shit right now, and carrying on feels impossible. But you will carry on, because you must.

Robbie didn’t sing that song at this gig, because this gig was part of a greatest hits tour celebrating his recent album of re-imagined versions of songs from his 25 year long solo career, ‘XXV’. And “The Impossible” is, astonishingly, not one of his greatest hits, but rather hidden away on one of his “Under The Radar” rarities collections. But Robbie still achieved something impossible this Sunday night in the autumn of 2022. It says a lot about how brilliant an artist is when they can leave out almost all of your favourites of their songs in a live set, and yet still manage to cram a gig so full of classics that you barely have time to breathe from one storming tune to the next. But this is Robbie, after all. How can a 20 song setlist possibly encapsulate everything he’s done over the course of his career?

Robbie Williams is a true one-off, a unique entertainer without comparison even in his 90s/00s heyday, but especially in the sanitised music scene of the present day. A whirlwind of charisma and charm, with his faux-ego-fuelled boasting masking a deep introspective sensitivity, he has created some of the sharpest and most poignant pop music of the last 25 years. To be in the presence of this outlandish yet self-effacing character was exactly what I needed in the worry-soaked months of autumn 2022. Life pressures were at an all time high for me at this time, with my parents both suffering health crises far away in Canada, and every moment suffused with the knowledge that terrible news may come at any time.

Given these worries, it’s unsurprising that I was not in the best of spirits as I zoomed to North Greenwich this autumnal Sunday evening last year. I was fatigued by a weird lurgy causing a sore throat and dizzy spells, and had spent the whole day in bed. Once evening arrived I pretty much had to force myself out the door to the tube station, promising myself I could turn back at any moment if I felt too ill, but this was a chance to see Robbie Williams, I damn well had to try to get there! I made it to the O2 round 8pm still feeling pretty rough, but armed myself with a gigantic Pepsi to keep me hydrated and sugar-fuelled, and willed myself to make it through the night.

And once Robbie was on stage, of course, none of this mattered. This was Robbie at his best, his most exuberantly, outlandishly Robbie-esque performance that I have ever seen. Unusually, he didn’t start with “Let Me Entertain You”, but deviated from the hits-only format with “Hey Wow Yeah Yeah” from his 2012 album “Take The Crown” – though I will admit that I had to look up that fact later on, as that’s one Robbie album that passed me by. But after this, the hits started coming, and they didn’t stop – from the inevitable “Let Me Entertain You” as second song, through some of his sneakily upbeat yet insidiously melancholy classics like “Monsoon”, “Strong” and “Come Undone”.

As an old Take That fangirl from the 90s, the most exciting section for me was the interlude dedicated to that most wondrous boyband, where he took us through his time with them, starting by playing us the “Do What You Like” video and stopping it cheekily just as a close-up of Mark’s bottom came in view. (I do have photographic evidence of this, but I fear my blog may be flagged as Adult Content if I include it!) Even more divinely, he sang a flawless “Everything Changes” though criminally ended it half way though, leaving us tantalisingly short of that divine moment where he sings “forevermore!” in falsetto. However, he redeemed himself soon after with an amazing, heartfelt rendition of “The Flood”.

Only at a gig like this, focussed on his greatest hits, can you fully appreciate how many timeless tunes he has under his belt, giving us for example the majesty of “Supreme” followed by the raw emotion of “Feel” before the raucous energy of “Kids” and “Rock DJ” brought the main set to a close in a vibrant party mood.

After this, and given my less than energetic state, I decided to start making my break for the exit a little early. In the encore, after a stunning rendition of the “XXV” version of “No Regrets”, I sneaked out to the loo during “She’s The One” and then stood at the back to take in the final, glorious “Angels”. It was almost exactly 25 years after I’d first stood in a room full of screaming girls, hearing Robbie sing that perfect song, and we were all still there. Older, but still screaming. And we still get to hear Robbie singing that song, which is the real privilege.

Now, over a year since this gig, I find myself wading through the bewildering aftermath of some of the events that I was dreading when I went to it – my father has been gone for almost a year, and my mother is in a care home far away. On a day when the sadness seemed overwhelming, I decided to distract myself by watching Robbie’s new Netflix documentary. As anyone who’s watched this will know, it’s far from the most uplifting viewing, but the brutal honesty with which Robbie describes his darkest hours, and his journey out of the dark, gave me some solace. And towards the end – just about the time he plays this very gig, in fact – he describes how he feels when a fan tells him how much they’ve enjoyed seeing him play live.

”I almost cry. We did that together. We understood each other and created a moment together. That will remain etched in our souls and our spirit, and I’m ever so grateful that we get to share that experience.”

Which is pretty much exactly how I feel about live music, and definitely how I remember this gig. It’s moments like these that punctuate our lives, giving something real and meaningful to hold on to – the joy and connection that live music brings – when everything else is falling to pieces around us, and I am, like Robbie, so grateful that I got to share this wonderful experience with him, and the 20,000 others in the O2, last October.