Robbie Williams ~ Live at Knebworth (2003)

Robbie Williams - Live at Knebworth (2003)
August 2, 2003 Knebworth House Knebworth, England UK
***
British Pop Majesty Electrifies the English Sky
by R. Dale Roth 2025-03-08

Step back into the electric haze of a Saturday night, August 2, 2003, when Knebworth Park in England became the beating heart of a 125,000 strong congregation, all there to bask in Robbie Williams’ singular brilliance.

This wasn’t just another Saturday night, it was a standalone triumph, a pop odyssey that fused stadium grandeur with an intimacy that left every fan buzzing. For live music lovers and blog readers who chase those unforgettable highs, Robbie’s second night at Knebworth was a masterstroke of energy, connection, and sheer showmanship that still feels vivid all these years later.

The sound was unmistakable: pop with a rebellious streak, those massive hooks laced with Robbie’s signature Brit wit that could, and did, fill the vast park to its brim. The atmosphere crackled with life, a heady mix of anticipation and elation that swept through the crowd like wildfire. As the curtains fell away, revealing Robbie suspended upside down in a stunt that screamed rockstar bravado, the night ignited. This was no ordinary gig, it was a living, breathing spectacle, a jolt of joy and emotion delivered with a dazzling flourish.

Robbie owned the stage like it was his kingdom, his presence a magnetic pull that no one could resist. With a smirk that could charm a stone and a stride that radiated assurance, he danced between cheeky banter and moments of raw honesty. His energy was a live wire, boundless, infectious, and dialed up to eleven, keeping every eye locked on his every move.

Interaction with the crowd? He didn’t just chat, he turned the night into a giant, joyous conversation. Whether tossing out playful jabs or coaxing a fan onstage for a spontaneous spotlight, Robbie made that sea of 125,000 feel like a tight-knit crew. It was a rare alchemy, blending the colossal with the personal in a way that felt effortless.

Vocally, he was a powerhouse, his voice rang out with a gritty, soulful edge, hitting every note with precision and passion. The instrumentals matched him stride for stride, a tight, vibrant blend of lush soundscapes and rock-driven punch, elevated by guest pianist Max Beesley’s deft flourishes. Together, they wove a sonic tapestry that was sharp, dynamic, and utterly alive, every chord and harmony landing with a visceral kick. This was Robbie at his peak, a performer who could turn a massive crowd into a single, swaying heartbeat.

New cuts from Escapology peppered the night, bringing fresh fire to the proceedings. These tracks, bold, introspective, and brimming with hooks, showed Robbie wasn’t coasting on nostalgia but charging forward with something vital to say.

Then came the moment that sent shivers through the park: Mark Owen, his old Take That mate, joining him for a harmony-soaked throwback that felt like a warm embrace from the past. It was a golden nugget for the diehards, a live link between then and now that hit all the right notes.

The stage was a visual feast, towering screens, a thrusting runway, and platforms that let Robbie roam deep into the crowd’s embrace. Lighting bathed the scene in vivid shades, swinging from sultry reds to euphoric whites, mirroring the night’s emotional tide. Visual effects dialed up the drama, smoke curling through the air, pyros flashing like exclamation points, and that iconic opener with Robbie dropping in like a pop god. The sound was pristine, every lyric and riff slicing through the night with clarity, wrapping the audience in a sonic cocoon that felt both epic and close-knit.

Robbie’s energy never faltered, he was a whirlwind, weaving between sly quips and heartfelt revelations, his charisma a beacon that lit up Knebworth. He didn’t just perform; he forged a bond, turning thousands of strangers into a roaring, unified chorus. For that one Saturday night, the park wasn’t just a venue, it was Robbie’s world, and we were all swept up in its orbit. This was pop at its most exhilarating, a testament to why live music remains the ultimate thrill for those of us who live for it.

Song by Song:

01. “Let Me Entertain You” - From the moment the curtains parted Robbie Williams didn’t just kick off the night, he detonated it with "Let Me Entertain You." Picture 125,000 fans at Knebworth Park, their collective roar shaking the Hertfordshire air as Robbie dangled upside-down, channeling the Escapology album cover in a stunt that screamed, “I’m here to own this.” The song’s opening riff, a snarling, rock-charged blast, hit like a thunderclap, instantly transforming the crowd into a pulsing, unified beast. His vocals were a full on assault, dripping with that cheeky bravado fans adore, every “Come on, let me entertain you!” a dare to match his energy. The band was relentless, guitars slashing through the mix with a gritty edge, drums pounding like a heartbeat on overdrive, and Max Beesley’s piano adding a sly, playful undercurrent. Robbie strutted the runway, arms flung wide, his grin a beacon in the floodlights, pure showman swagger. The crowd sang every word back, a sea of voices that turned the park into a cathedral of chaos and joy. It wasn’t just a song, it was a declaration, setting the tone for a night where anything could happen, and everything did.

02. “Let Love Be Your Energy” - A few songs in, "Let Love Be Your Energy" brought a shift, a burst of brightness that felt like Robbie tossing a lifeline to the crowd. Coming off his 2001 album Swing When You’re Winning, this track was all about uplift, and on that Saturday night, it soared. The intro bubbled up with a crisp acoustic strum, then exploded into a full-band swell that wrapped the audience in a warm, electric hug. Robbie’s voice took on a softer edge here, smooth and earnest, letting the lyrics, “Let love be your energy, let it flow”, carry a tender weight before he cranked it up for the chorus. The instrumentation sparkled, with the bassline bouncing like a pulse and the guitars weaving a melody that begged for swaying arms and closed-eye smiles. He worked the stage with a lighter touch, pausing to lock eyes with the front rows, his banter between verses, something cheeky about love and lager, drawing laughs that rippled through the masses. The crowd leaned into it, hands aloft, their voices blending with his in a moment that felt less like a performance and more like a shared exhale. Under Knebworth’s starry sky, it was pure, feel-good magic, a reminder of why we chase these nights.

03. “Monsoon” - When "Monsoon" hit, it was like Robbie flipped a switch, plunging the night into something darker, sexier, and gloriously unhinged. Fresh from Escapology, this track was a storm in every sense, brooding, intense, and dripping with attitude. The opening chords rolled in heavy and hypnotic, a wall of sound that pulsed through the park, the bass thudding deep in your chest. Robbie’s vocals were raw and commanding, stretching from a sultry growl to a belt that pierced the night, every line, “I’m a monsoon, I’m a killer”, delivered with a wicked glint in his eye. The band matched him blow for blow, drums crashing like thunder, guitars slicing through with a jagged edge, and Beesley’s keys adding a haunting swirl that kept it unpredictable. Onstage, Robbie was a force, prowling the runway, leaning into the crowd, his energy feral and magnetic. The lighting shifted to deep reds and purples, smoke curling around him as pyros flared, turning the scene into a rock ‘n’ roll fever dream. The audience roared back, caught in the song’s grip, some dancing wildly, others just staring, mesmerized. It was a high-octane jolt, a reminder that Robbie could pivot from pop prince to renegade in a heartbeat, and on this night, he did it with a vengeance.

04. “Come Undone” - Was like Robbie peeled back the showman mask and let the crowd see his soul. Fresh from Escapology, this song was a raw, aching confession wrapped in a melody that could break your heart and lift it all at once. The opening chords crept in, soft, haunting, with a lone guitar that felt like a whisper in the dark, before the band swelled into a lush, emotional wave. Robbie’s voice was the star here, starting with a fragile tremble that pulled you in close, then building to a chorus that soared with desperate, beautiful power. “I’m not scared of dying, I just don’t want to” hit the 125,000-strong crowd like a gut punch, and they sang it back, their voices a tidal wave of empathy. Onstage, he was quieter, almost still, letting the words carry the weight, though that cheeky glint flickered when he tossed a quick quip about his “wicked ways” mid-song, sparking a ripple of laughter. The lighting dimmed to a moody blue, smoke drifting across the stage, and Max Beesley’s piano added a delicate, mournful thread that made it all feel cinematic. It was vulnerable, messy, and utterly captivating, a moment where Robbie and the crowd bared it all together.

05. “Strong” - Brought the night roaring back to life with a blast of defiance and feel-good grit. Hailing from 1998’s I’ve Been Expecting You, this was Robbie’s anthem of resilience, and on that Saturday, it turned Knebworth into a fortress of unbreakable spirits. The intro kicked off with a punchy guitar riff and a driving beat that had the crowd bouncing before the first word even dropped. Robbie’s vocals were bold and brassy, belting “I’m strong, and I’m proud” with a fire that dared anyone to disagree. The band was in lockstep, drums thumping like a war cry, guitars chiming with a bright, rebellious edge, and a bassline that kept the energy surging. He worked the runway hard here, fists pumping, eyes scanning the sea of faces as he grinned like he’d just won a bet with the universe. The crowd was all in, arms waving, voices booming in unison, especially on that massive “I’m strong!” hook that felt like a victory lap for every underdog in the park. The lights flashed in bold whites and golds, bathing the stage in a triumphant glow, and Robbie’s mid-song banter, something about surviving the week, had everyone cheering like old mates. It was pure, unfiltered uplift, a reminder that this night was as much about the fans’ strength as his.

06. “Me and My Monkey” - Took Knebworth on a wild, surreal ride. Another Escapology gem, this was storytelling at its most bonkers, a twisted tale of debauchery and chaos set to a soundtrack that swung from sleazy to epic. The song kicked off with a slinky, Latin-tinged groove, all sultry percussion and a guitar lick that oozed mischief, before exploding into a full-on rock frenzy. Robbie’s voice was a chameleon, crooning low and dangerous one minute, then belting with theatrical gusto the next, every “Me and my monkey!” a gleeful descent into madness. The band went all out, drums crashing like a getaway car, horns blaring in chaotic bursts (a nod to the album’s mariachi vibe), and Beesley’s keys weaving a quirky, off-kilter thread through the madness. Onstage, Robbie was a livewire, prowling and prancing, his energy dialed up to pure lunacy as he mimed the monkey’s antics, drawing roars of delight from the crowd. The lighting turned frenetic, strobing reds and yellows flashing like a fever dream, and pyros popped off at just the right moments, amplifying the song’s wild heart. The 125,000 fans lapped it up, some singing, some just laughing at the sheer absurdity, all swept into Robbie’s bizarre little world. It was a rollercoaster of sound and spectacle, a perfect slice of his unpredictable genius.

07. “Hot Fudge” - Was like Robbie tossed a sugar-coated grenade into the crowd, a delicious burst of fun from Escapology that had everyone grinning ear to ear. The song kicked off with a bouncy, bubblegum beat, all snappy drums and a bassline that strutted like it owned the place, before the guitars chimed in with a bright, playful riff. Robbie’s voice was pure mischief, dripping with charm as he crooned about “hot fudge and ice cream,” his delivery equal parts cheeky and irresistible. He bounced across the stage, hips swaying, tossing winks to the front rows like he was sharing an inside joke with 125,000 pals. The band kept it tight and fizzy, Max Beesley’s piano adding a sprightly little dance to the mix, and the whole thing felt like a party you didn’t want to end. The lights popped in candy-colored pinks and yellows, syncing with the song’s giddy vibe, and the crowd was right there with him, clapping along, some even jumping like kids on a sugar high. It was light, it was silly, it was joyous, a moment where Robbie reminded everyone that music can just be a damn good time, and on that Saturday night, it absolutely was.

08. “Mr. Bojangles” - Robbie flipped the script, taking Knebworth into a tender, theatrical corner of his world. Pulled from Swing When You’re Winning (2001), this cover of the Jerry Jeff Walker classic was all about storytelling, and Robbie spun it into something magical. The song started soft and slow, a lone piano, Max Beesley’s gentle touch, easing into a jazzy sway, joined by a brushed drumbeat that felt like a quiet tap dance. Robbie’s voice was warm and weathered, carrying the tale of the dancing drifter with a sincerity that hushed the massive crowd. He stood center stage, spotlight glowing soft and golden, his usual swagger dialed back to a subtle sway as he sang “I knew a man, Bojangles, and he danced for you.” The band built it up gradually, horns swelling in mournful bursts, strings tugging at the heart, and Robbie let the emotion pour out, his eyes glinting with something raw. The 125,000 fans leaned in, some swaying, others just soaking it in, their cheers at the end more a reverent roar than a wild one. The lighting stayed intimate, a wash of amber and shadow, and it felt like Robbie had turned that huge park into a smoky little jazz club for a few precious minutes. It was a beautiful breather, a nod to his crooner soul that hit deep.

09. “Supreme” - "Supreme" swaggered in next, and Knebworth erupted into a full-on victory lap. From 2000’s Sing When You’re Winning, this track was Robbie’s sleek, confident anthem, and on that Saturday night, it felt like he was crowning himself king of the 125,000-strong kingdom. The intro slinked in with that iconic sample, a nod to Gloria Gaynor’s “I Will Survive”, all smooth strings and a funky bass groove, before exploding into a chorus that demanded every voice join in. Robbie’s vocals were bold and buttery, sliding from cool croons to a belt that filled the park, every “I’m supreme!” a flex of pure charisma. The band was on fire, guitars punching through with a rock edge, drums driving it hard, and a synth layer that gave it that irresistible sheen. He owned the runway here, striding out like a rockstar James Bond, smirking as he tossed a line to the crowd, something about being “too sexy for this stage”, and they ate it up, screaming back every word. The lights flared in icy blues and whites, strobes flashing like a VIP club, and the energy was electric, the crowd a sea of fists and swaying hips. It was slick, it was triumphant, it was Robbie at his smoothest, a moment that turned Knebworth into his personal empire, and no one minded one bit.

10. “Better Man” - Came in like a warm breeze cutting through the night, a soul-baring gem from Sing When You’re Winning that turned 125,000 fans into a choir of hope. The song started gently, just Robbie and a soft acoustic strum, his voice carrying a quiet ache as he sang “Send someone to love me, I need to rest in arms.” It was raw and real, a plea that hushed the crowd before the band eased in, strings swelling, drums tapping a tender rhythm, and Max Beesley’s piano weaving a delicate thread underneath. Then came the chorus, and Robbie let it rip, his vocals climbing with a yearning power that lifted the whole park skyward. He stood still for this one, hands clasped like he was praying to the stars, his usual cheek dimmed to a flicker of vulnerability that hit hard. The crowd sang every word back, a sea of voices blending into one massive, heartfelt swell, some swaying, some with eyes closed, lost in their own stories. The lights glowed a soft gold, casting a halo over the stage, and it felt intimate, like Robbie was singing to each person alone despite the thousands around. It was a moment of grace in the chaos of the night, a promise that we’re all trying to be better, together.

11. “Nan’s Song” - A deeply personal tribute from Escapology that felt like Robbie opening his heart right there on the spot. The intro was bare and beautiful, just a lone guitar picking out a melody that whispered of home, before Robbie’s voice came in, soft and trembling with love for his late grandmother. “You said when you died that I’d be alright” landed like a lump in the throat, and you could feel the crowd lean in, hanging on every word. The band stayed light, strings adding a bittersweet hum, a faint drumbeat keeping it steady, letting Robbie’s emotion take the lead. He sang this one straight, no banter, no flash, just a man and his memory under a single spotlight that bathed him in white. The 125,000 fans were reverent, some holding each other, others mouthing the lyrics like a quiet prayer, their cheers at the end more a collective sigh than a shout. The simplicity was the power, no pyros, no tricks, just a voice and a story that turned a massive gig into something small and sacred. On that Saturday night, it was Robbie at his most human, and it left a mark.

12. “Feel” - Closed this trio with a bang, a towering Escapology anthem that shook Knebworth to its core and sent 125,000 souls soaring. The song kicked off with a brooding piano line, Max Beesley setting the mood, dark and restless, before the band crashed in with a wall of sound that felt like the night itself was waking up. Robbie’s voice was a force, starting low and searching, then exploding into the chorus with a raw, desperate cry, “I just wanna feel real love!”, that echoed across the park. The guitars churned with urgency, drums thundered, and strings swept in like a storm, building it into something huge and unstoppable. He owned the stage here, pacing the runway, arms outstretched as if he could hug the whole crowd at once, his eyes wild with that mix of fire and fragility fans live for. The lighting flared, deep blues shifting to blazing whites, smoke swirling, pyros popping off like exclamation marks. The crowd was a tidal wave, singing back every line, their voices a roaring match for his, hands in the air like they could touch the feeling he was chasing. It was massive, cinematic, and gut-wrenchingly alive, a peak moment where Robbie and Knebworth became one pulsing, emotional beast.

13. “Rock D.J.” - Like a neon-lit party bus, turning the night into a full-on dance floor frenzy. Straight out of Sing When You’re Winning, this was Robbie’s cheeky, funky anthem, and he unleashed it with gusto. The song kicked off with that thumping bass line and a beat that snapped like a whip, instantly getting 125,000 hips shaking. Robbie’s voice was all swagger, slinking through “Can I kick it?” with a grin you could hear, then punching the chorus with a playful growl that dared the crowd to keep up. The band was a riot, synths pulsing with retro cool, guitars throwing in a sharp edge, and drums driving it like a runaway train. He owned the stage, strutting and spinning, tossing a mock salute to the front rows as he leaned into the runway, pure rockstar charm on overdrive. The lights went wild, strobing reds and greens flashing like a disco fever dream, and the crowd was a sea of bouncing bodies, chanting every “Rock DJ!” back with gleeful abandon. It was a shot of pure, unfiltered fun, a moment where Robbie turned Knebworth into the world’s biggest club, and everyone was VIP.

14. “Angels” - The night shifted into something transcendent, a Life thru a Lens classic that turned Knebworth into a cathedral of emotion on that Saturday. The opening chords rolled in soft and familiar, a lone piano (Max Beesley’s tender touch) that hushed the crowd before Robbie’s voice broke through, warm and soaring with “I sit and wait.” It built slow and steady, strings swelling like a rising tide, drums kicking in with a gentle thud, until the chorus hit, and he let loose a belt of “And through it all, she offers me protection” that sent chills down 125,000 spines. He stood tall, arms wide, his usual mischief replaced by a quiet intensity as he poured everything into it. The crowd became one voice, singing back every word with a reverence that shook the park, some with hands raised, others with tears streaking down, all caught in the song’s embrace. The lights bathed the stage in a soft white glow, simple and pure, letting the moment breathe. It wasn’t just a performance, it was a communion, a shared heartbeat between Robbie and his faithful, a reminder of why this song’s a forever anthem.

15. “Back For Good” - Sealed the night with a nostalgic punch, a Take That reunion moment that sent Knebworth into a tailspin of joy. Originally from 1995’s Nobody Else, this was Robbie joined by Mark Owen, and on August 2, it was pure magic. The song started with a gentle guitar pluck and a hush, Robbie’s voice smooth and longing as he sang “I guess now it’s time for me to give up,” before Mark’s harmony slid in, sweet and perfect, lifting it higher. The band kept it lush, strings weaving a warm blanket, drums tapping a steady pulse, and the two voices together were a time machine, pulling fans back to the ‘90s while rooting them in the now. Robbie grinned wide, throwing an arm around Mark mid-song, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he milked the moment, maybe a quick quip about old times that got the crowd laughing. The 125,000 fans lost it, singing every “I want you back for good” with a fervor that rattled the stage, a mix of screams and cheers erupting when the duo locked eyes. The lights glowed a soft purple, pyros flaring at the climax, and it felt like a victory lap for every heart that's followed them from day one. It was a blast of past-meets-present bliss, a Knebworth highlight that hit all the right notes.

Featuring: Robbie Williams
Guest Artist: Mark Owen

Musicians:
Max Beesley - percussion, piano
Yolanda Charles - bass guitar
Melvin Duffy - slide guitar
Neil Taylor - guitar, background vocals
Gary Nuttall - guitar, background vocals
Mark Plati - guitar, keyboards, background vocals
Claire Worrall: guitar, keyboards
Chris Sharrock - drums
J. Neil Sidwell - trombone
Steve Sidwell - trumpet
Paul Spong - trumpet
Simon Gardner - trumpet
Chris White - flute, saxophone
Dave Bishop - flute, saxophone

Vocalists:
Katie Kissoon: background vocals
Tessa Niles: background vocals

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