Babyshambles release new (but all too familiar) material

A couple of days ago, Babyshambles put a track from their upcoming album onto Youtube, 'Farmer's Daughter' from September's Sequel to the Prequel. This followed the unveiling of the new single, 'Nothing Comes to Nothing', their first single since 'You Talk' reached UK chart #54*, their lowest chart hit to date. This observation may seem superfluous, but the song's chart position was indicative of its low popularity within Babyshambles' fanbase: 2007's Shotter's Nation, produced by Stephen Street (who produced the slick indie of acts such as Blur, Kaiser Chiefs and The Ordinary Boys), disappointed original fans because of its cleanness - to a lot of people, it just sounded uninspired. I liked the second album, but 2004's Down in Albion has lingered in my affections for longer, not for its rawness of sound but for its rawness of emotion, its lyrical brashness and the way that the scanty production allowed the crack(s) to show through. Album Two was certainly lacking in something, though great tracks like 'There She Goes' and 'Carry on Up the Morning' made up for it.

The Youtube commentariat have already cast their vote on 'Nothing Comes to Nothing', and it looks like the disappointment surrounding Shotter's Nation might be up for a renewal. A commenter named Jordan Schmidt announced, "they really nailed that Generic-Indie-Rock sound", whilst Keith Lennox wrote "meh, it's okay, nothing more than that". A more moderate commentator suggested that "the middle of the road is nothing to shy away from". Most fans were crueller. "The old, classic and messy Babyshambles sold out", Jack Davies claims, and one typical voice asked "Where are the bum notes and the passion of the off key vocals..." A lot of those claiming to like the song sound like apologists, one summarising: "fuck man doherty has to make a living somehow". Quite.

Apologism in the music industry is hard to avoid. People get deeply emotionally involved with their favourite bands, and it's hard to let go and admit that the band you've invested in have made a bad album. Some adjust themselves rather than losing the bands - Youtube user BreckRoadLover21, who is clearly familiar enough with The Libertines to name him/herself after one of their earliest records, probably identifies with the band enough to take to their new, cleaner sound. Those who think that the middle of the road is better than the 'Side of the Road' are probably later fans, or fans who've grown out of their old punk spirit, and they're the type of listener that the Angry Young Men of 2004's audience almost certainly reject - would the old Doherty, the one who yelled "THEY'LL NEVER PLAY THIS ON THE RADIO" over 'Fuck Forever', have expected to attract fans who hum 'Delivery' while doing the dishes?

'Farmer's Daughter' was perhaps a relief to more hard-line fans. Featuring Peter's stilted guitar playing - still slightly jarring to the unexpectant listener - the song is more like 'Carry on Up the Morning' than 'You Talk', but it's far from '8 Dead Boys' or 'La Belle et Le Bête'. Where are the reggae beats that hung behind 'Pentonville', or the disjointed guitars and uncoordinated vocals of 'Pipedown'? Some people are seeing this as Babyshambles' early decline. So many rock bands grow up and out of fame - rock 'n' roll was always a cult of youth, and stars like Mick Jagger and Iggy Pop, as well as clearly being exceptions to the rule, seem farcical next to the young bands. Whether it's fair or not is another question, but old rock musicians have to pass through the 'mocking' stage before they reach the Hall of Fame. Most never get there.

I don't know - sometimes I think that even I'm an apologist of sorts. I loved The Libertines, and Babyshambles, and Dirty Pretty Things (Hell! Even Yeti!) but recently, neither Carl Barât nor Pete Doherty seem to have been writing quality songs, and I'm losing faith in Pete as a lyricist in recent years. Perhaps the missing link in the last two Babyshambles album has been a driving, idiosyncratic guitarist - Mik Whitnall is a strong player, but his style belongs more in Oasis than a lo-fi once-punk band.

As a fan, I'm going to give Sequel to the Prequel a try when it comes out in September. The Youtube commenter who suggested "singles are meant to be commercial" might have put his finger on the problem with 'Nothing Comes to Nothing' - as a piece of songwriting, it's kind of generic, but I thought that about 'Killamangiro'; maybe it's too soon to judge the album. Then again, I think a lot of fans are expecting Sequel to the Prequel to be a little bit like the Damien Hirst artwork which adorns its cover - suddenly accepted into the establishment, the canon, and less interesting for it.

*'Side of the Road', released for Record Store Day 2010, didn't chart at all, but it was only released as a limited edition 7" vinyl.

The Best Pete Doherty Lyrics

"Good artists borrow. Great artists steal." If the saying holds water, then Pete Doherty is the best of artists - from his lyrics to the stuff in his bandmate's flat, Doherty has been a nicker all his working life. Sources state he got offered a place doing English at Oxford Uni, others say the University of London, but either way, it would explain his penchant for putting literary references into his songs - 'A'rébours', Blake's 'Albion', 'Love on the Dole' etc. Recently, he's stolen someone else's career choices. He's made a film, as if to try and out-do Carl Barât in the world of cinema. The two performances (Barât's in Telstar and Doherty's in new film Confession d'un Enfant du Siècle) have little between them as far as terrible delivery of lines is concerned; the key difference is that Pete attempts a leading role. The reviews have ranged from confused to distraught. Watch the trailer below and see if you can work out what it's about.

In a recent interview for The Guardian, Pete Doherty confessed to possibly falling for his own mythology back when he was doing drugs in Camden. Isn't the past tense a bit bold there? Making a French film?! 'What a waster', the world says, except for a few little voices cooing 'he's a sweetie really!', because as this video from when he was released from prison in 2008 demonstrates, the sweetie is sweet from time to time. Look at his little face when he asks the nazi paparazzi if they want to see his journals!

Cruel nasty journalist (mockingly): What does it contain?

Sweetie Petey: Forts... drorins...

... (Pete shows the world a 'Segregation Unit Certificate')

Anyway, I digress. What with his stealing and his strange recent past, Doherty's excellent song-writing can sometimes become lost in the throes of speculation and judgment. Several years ago, I knew him as a 'tabloid whipping-boy' well before I'd heard his voice - a voice which is not the strong point of his music, but idiosyncratic to say the least. What's important is often what that voice is saying. Not many musicians bother writing poetry, whether it's heavily influenced by someone else or not. Here's a run-down of my top five gems.

'Up the Bracket'

Now, it should be mentioned that pretty much all of these tracks were co-written. But, if you compare the lyrics of The Libertines, Doherty and Barât's project, to those of Barât's solo lyrics, it seems clear that most of the good stuff should be attributed to Pete. Since he put pen to paper, Pete's been penning good songs - sometimes. He has definite off-days, but the day he wrote 'Up the Bracket' was not one of them. The title track of their first album, it showcases a little anecdote about Pete being chased by a couple of serious baddies for a friend's address.

I saw two shadow men on the Vallance Road

said they'd pay me for your address.

Oh I was so bold...

In three lines, he sets up all the suspense a good story needs. What did he do? What did he do?

I said "you see these two cold fingers?

These crooked fingers?

They'll show you the way" -

to mean 'no'.

It's great. We get the recounting of an 'oh so bold' reply, of weedy Pete giving them the sign - the sign they should fuck off. The story goes on though, with warm anecdotal flair,

Well they didn't like that much I can tell you,

said "sunshine, I wouldn't wanna be in your shoes".

They chased me up two flights of stairs,

caught me in the lift. I sighed and said

"Hello", but you're impossible.

This little scene is perfectly imaginable. Not quite sure what he means by the final lines, but they're expressed with a suitable sigh of futility. It's a good track because, let's face it, we've all heard more love songs than we'd like to shake a stick at, and this is romanticised but totally different from the boring generic love songs constantly played elsewhere.

'Can't Stand Me Now'

Up the Bracket was The Libertines' first album, and all the peace and joy went downhill from there. The light-hearted punk-rock gave way by the time their self-titled second release was made - to self-absorption and harrowing suffering, mostly. Tracks like 'Narcissist' are attempts at recreating the fast-paced carelessness of album number one, but the album gets its fame from the heartache it clearly represents - and discusses, in raw and often very painful detail. 'Can't Stand Me Now' is one of The Libs' most famous tracks, and its lyrics were penned in France when Carl and Pete reunited after Peter's first spell in prison. The first verses are golden:

An ending fitting for the start,

you twist and tore our love apart.

Your light fingers through the dark

shattered the lamp, into darkness you cast us.

The first question - is the song about Carl and Pete themselves? It's a question loaded with significance, because the key to the second Libs album for a lot of people is its romance, the way it bares its heart to the world - raw emotion usually so detached and unfamiliar in songs is thrust into the light by the fact we know the story. The magic of these lyrics in particular is that they open the album, with 'an ending', looking back, prophesying the band's untimely break-up. Barât appears to be singing to Doherty, attacking him, blaming him for shattering the lamp of their lives, casting them into darkness. It's traditional imagery but it's well-phrased.

But lo, Pete replies:

No, you've got it the wrong way round,

you shut me up and blamed it on the brown.

Cornered, the boy kicked out at the world...

the world kicked back, a lot fuckin' harder now.

This clearly refers to Barât, destroying the mystery; Barât had Doherty sent to prison in 2004 for breaking into his flat. Pete suggests that it was Carl's fault - 'you shut me up' - and then that Carl tried to shrug the blame by saying it was Pete's drug use causing the problems. The way they immortalise the deadlock of their disagreement is brave - to air their dirty laundry is either a blatant cashing-in on the romance of their story, or songwriting which breaks down the usual boundaries between private and public, the personal lives of the artists and the analytical gaze of the outside world. (Only your personal feeling about the band will determine which angle you take on that.) Doherty turns to some poetic phrasing to give his verse oomph: 'cornered', he begins, placing himself as the passive victim where Barât's verse had been so accusatory. But then he confesses - he did kick, and he got a suitably colloquial kick back. These verses capture both his victim complex and a wry understanding of the way everyone else sees it. As well as being as catchy as Hell, 'Can't Stand Me Now' is a lyrical corpse preserved in formaldehyde, a neat description of the cataclysmic fatal domestic.

'8 Dead Boys'

After The Libertines broke up for what seemed like it would be forever, Pete ran off and wrote some blisteringly mean songs about Barât. The first Babyshambles album is a constant two fingers at Carlos; "Shoop d'lang d'lang", Pete echoes from 'What Katie Did', parodying the innocent friendliness of that Libertines track; "Don't look back into the motherfucking sun" he cries on 'Sticks & Stones', a more obvious reference; one of the songs is even called 'What Katy Did Next', using the convenient literary sequence to move on from The Libs - to open the next book.

'8 Dead Boys' is a particularly vicious track, a masterpiece in sparse punk - here's a great live version.

My favourite lines are at the start of the second verse, and go

If you stop your moaning then they'll give you a taster

They'll give you a line and then call you a waster.

Don't.

You say you will then you won't.

Either you do or you don't - do or you don't.

It's true that the painful, gut-wrenching screams of the song nail home its mood, but these lines encapsulate it too. That taster/waster couplet is another example of Pete placing blame for his way of life on someone else. Pete addresses the audience - it could happen to you, you my friend, that if you go to 'them', whoever they are (we assume his old band, with whom his drug-taking got real), they'll offer you drugs and then accuse you of being the waster. Yes, friends, you. The 'don't' is Doherty's final remark on the matter; he then switches. The 'you' is no longer a cover for himself, an attempt to pull the audience into sympathy; the 'you' assumes the role of the 'they', I think - he addresses his drug-providing pals - don't, because you're unreliable, you lie, and this is your last chance. It's partly appealing because of its rhymes, but I also like its vagueness; he wrote these in a journal or on a scrap piece of paper and they've stayed in tact. That's how it feels. Then he yells, "When it suits you you're a friend of mine", implying that when it doesn't suit them, they're not. Accusatory, angry, powerfully raw - it's what punk used to be about, only more... self-centred.

Shotter's Nation

Album number two brought a much less bitter and more stable range of lyrics into Babyshambles' fans' lives. Personally, I think the album, whilst it is beautifully produced and has some lovely tracks on it, lacks lyrically. It has a few good lines on though, like 'Carry on Up the Morning''s

In the morning where does all the pain go?

Same place the fame goes - straight to your head

which is gorgeously easy to empathise with, and witty to boot. Then, there's 'Delivery', with

I'm fucked, forlorn, frozen beneath the summer.

Don't sing along or you'll get what I got

a grim warning to his fans, telling them off for going to see him play in a cage, which the whole world calls a stage. And then perhaps the denaturalised cliché of 'There She Goes':

How could I let go?

Since I caught a glimpse of your white plimsoles

twisting and turning to Northern Soul.

Just one glance, everybody knows.

I love these, and this album, but like sub-plots in a novel, they don't seem to stick to the story of Pete's life. He has every right to write songs which are about things other than his mighty rise and fall, of course, and he writes great tracks nevertheless, supported by a strong band (even if walk-out guitarist Pat of the first album was a more individual player than this album's Mik).

'New Love Grows on Trees'

And finally, Doherty's solo album. Soft and delicate, it's possibly called 'growing up', only as with most maturing, the lyrics get duller, less impassioned... nostalgic, self-consciously 'British', lots of these songs are sweet and about nothing. Last of the English Roses has a few little crackers in it - "Round the snooker table, you dance the Frutti-Tutti. She almost spilled her lager toasting girls of great beauty" is a nice rhyme, for example, if a little laboured. The magic comes in a song he wrote years before. It is summoned for this release, possibly because its warm reminiscing fits with the character of the album. Peter gently sings,

Are you still talking to

all of those dead film stars, like you used to?

And are you still thinking of

all of those pretty rhymes and perfect crimes

like you used to?

I don't know why I love these lyrics so much - they just seem to conjure up appealing images, especially of the talking to dead film stars, an endearing quirk in the person the song is written for, whoever it may be. The simple internal rhyme of 'rhymes' and 'crimes' is nice too, just aesthetically. Though the lyrics are very simple, they have an undercurrent of something a bit darker - it's that repetition of 'like you used to' that does it, like a cruel reference to better times, or times when the pair were better acquainted. It's also impatient; as he later says, if you are still doing these things, "you really don't have to".

The album version is absolutely gorgeous, but it seems appropriate to post this vid, what with its array of pictures of the guy I've spent a good thousand words talking about, so enjoy.

I just hope Pete can recover his writing talent and release some new material, be it with the Babyshambles team or alone. 'Genius' is too strong a word, in my opinion, as perhaps even is 'poet', but Pete Doherty has released some invigorating and wonderful tracks in his time, and some superb lyrics. And he isn't cut out for acting - hopefully the reviews will drive him back into the studio.

Babyshambles @ Birmingham Academy, 19/12/09

If I was expecting some kind of Christmas theme (and I was), then the only Christmassy thing about yesterday night was the freezing cold. Despite this, the queue was twenty strong half way through the afternoon, but I chose not to join it because I wanted to be able to move by the time it came to go into the gig...

Amidst a few Santa hats and a lot of good cheer in the crowd, the first band on were The Scuzzies: a bad band name for a bad band. Four chords, strung together under a pair of average voices, in the typical way of indie punk at the moment, and perhaps always. Not impressed. The second support was a band called Gaoler's Daughter, which features 'ex-members of Larrikin Love, Littl'ans, No Picasso and Letters From London', and so makes up a collective of faces you know-you-ought-to-remember-but-don't. They were much better than the first band, with some juicy chords and interesting rhythms. They released an album recently, and it sounds like it might be quite good.

Babyshambles took their time, the crowd doing what they always do given a late Babyshambles arrival: asking fraught unanswerable questions. "Is he here? How much longer? Is he still on the drugs?" When they did come out, Pete seemed compos mentis, and it seemed they had a much better time than in March. The review I gave the 25th March Peter Doherty solo gig was mainly a review on the drunken masses in the crowd, but last night there were no such problems where I was standing, middle back. Everyone enjoyed themselves and sang along.

Edit this setlist | More Babyshambles setlists

The highlights for me were: Stranger in my Own Skin, a new one previewed on Pete Doherty's Youtube channel which the crowd responded well to; Pipedown, with grittiness and bitterness and loud, angry chords enough to fill the decade; I Wish, because the crowd ordered it with their familiar shouting of the riff, and then it was played with great crowd participation (of course); Albion, because Peter knew almost every suburb and town outside Birmingham and listed them, to the crowd's immense appreciation, and finally, the glorious Fuck Forever, still played with all the anthemic soul which defined it in 2005.

Sedative was a let-down live, being one of my favourite Shambles songs and a beautiful little masterpiece all round. It lost some of its warmth and tenderness live, and the harmonica didn't work, I thought. That was the only song I was disappointed by, and the whole gig was just so much better than Peter Doherty in March. I think everyone on stage had a better time too, and they were decidedly not a shambles, to add to the overuse of the bad pun. It ended on curfew at ten (Babyshambles being so hardcore they don't conform to non-conformity), and the crowd poured out of the new Academy to snow.

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year all round - thus ends my first year of music blogging.

8/10

Peter Doherty arrested.

For drink driving, and driving without a license. In possession of class A drugs. Again.

Hopes of an imminent Libertines reunion are dashed; Carl Barât said he would get back together with Pete if Pete could stay off the drugs. And Pete agreed, as he always does - but they were false promises, as they always are. I was naïve to think it would turn out any other way - I was so hopeful for a Libertines reunion, tour, and then new material (which I am detemined would be good enough to sustain their legacy, even if it wasn't as youthful and invigorated as it was ten years ago).

What that man does with his life is his choice, but I know many fans will be disappointed now. I don't like it when Pete gets dragged through the tabloids, ends up in prison, has his musical creativity put on pause by the law and the media. I don't think any fans do.

Like he once sang:
"My boy who will believe your lies? Noone's going to sell you any alibis."

The Libertines: Reasons For Speculation

Is there a man who wears a leather jacket better than Carl Barât?

That is barely relevant, but I felt a need to pay a homage to the man who has taught me the ALT code for the letter â (ALT 131 of course), especially in such good times.

The Libertines reunited, briefly, last week, for a gig to pay tribute to the deceased owner of the Rhythm Factory in London. Carl, Pete and Gary are all scheduled to play Camden Rocks festival in early June too, and wouldn't it just be torture for them all to be at a festival and then not play together? And if a show happens, with Carl, Pete and Gary, followed by more little gigs like that...well a full Libertines reunion is on the cards, like we've been told. Pete & Carl have said they would record together next year, a promise which set fans' blood racing; definitely mine.

My worries are about John's decision. It is no secret that Peter has wanted to reform The Libs for a very long time. Carl is making positive noises now, and Gary seems to be going along with Carl. But John? John Hassall is busy with Yeti, a lower velocity group with seemingly a lot of mileage: things are on his terms and he doesn't have egos and drugs to compete with, he can stretch his musical muscle, make the sound he wants to. There are other bassists (cue Drew McConnell, enter stage left) but John was always the bassist for the job, with his fast fingers, his image, and his ability to fade into the background to let Pete & Carl take centre stage, while still being a strong presence. In the Libs book, it was said, "John is the only bassist." Perhaps he is. A Libs reunion would not be the same without him.

All the same, it is a good time to be a Libertines fan. Not as good a time as 2001 and 2002, waiting for an unscheduled gig on the dishevelled pavement of the Camden Road, or logging onto libertines.org back in its hayday. No, it's not as good a time as that, but it certainly feels like there is a future, regardless of your opinions on their reformation. There is unfinished business between the boys in the band, and I for one am waiting for the saga to continue.

10 Songs I Love Right Now - 28/03/09

High time for another of these I think.

Graham Coxon - Freakin' Out

Freakin' Out is possibly the most uptempo song about boredom you will ever find. It's about that month when you weren't going through relationship problems, weren't really in love with anything, didn't need money, weren't recovering from a serious addiction - and the absence of anything interesting was driving you mad. Everyone's felt it. This song captures that, with a fantastic little guitar solo and a catchy chorus. If you want to hear Graham at his most sensitive best, outside of Blur, listen to the beautiful Ribbons And Leaves as well.

Franz Ferdinand - Bite Hard

Bite Hard is the best song on Franz's third album, Tonight, from the gentle but unnerving piano introduction, with unsettling lyrics, to the ambiguous cries of 'Bite hard!', to the fantastic upbeat synth solo. It's perfect to wake you up in the morning, and it's brilliant live, and it encapsulates the singalong silliness of Franz at their best.

The Libertines - What a Waster

What A Waster was not a crap first release. It was not a 'This band have potential, but we're gonna have to wait and see' track. This song, rightfully, gained The Libertines a ridiculous amount of hype as the British front line in NME's 'New Rock Revolution'. This track was, and is, a punk rock explosion of anger and youthfulness, referencing Ulysses and the Beano and the Book of Revelation, shot through with sadness, bursting with expletives and oozing talent...a brilliant song.

Levellers - Before The End

Levellers' most recent release, Letters From The Underground, is an angry, rough record, with guitar solos and fast fiddle sections and political lyrics; it is typical Levellers. This song stands out however as being a bit different. It's sentimental, looking at failing love: 'it's just one kiss to build a dream upon'. It's softer, more thoughtful, and has some lovely melodies.

The Strokes - New York City Cops

Like Last Nite, New York City Cops is a snapshot of a moment in time, in New York City, at night. It opens with Julian Casablancas being daft - "Oh! Haha, I meant: Ah! No I didn't mean that at all." This is endearing, especially with his undeniably sexy voice. For once, The Strokes abandoned their extremely repetitive strum-strum-strum-strum formula (at least on lead guitar) until the chorus. It's a welcome break.

Peter Doherty - New Love Grows on Trees

It is hard to sum up the brilliance of this song in a paragraph. It's beautiful, telling of the foolishness of teen promises and decisions ('If you're still alive when you're 25, will I kill you like you told me to? Well I really don't want to.'), telling of growing up, telling of new love growing on trees (?), all sung in Peter's fitting drawl over ambient electric distortion and acoustic guitar. It's so much more than pretty.

The Hair - Half Cut

The Hair, now Club Smith, are one of the better new bands to make use of the fashion for electronic synths and samples in British music right now, because they combine it with catchiness, great percussion and some really (dare I say it) funky songs. Half Cut is a walk-along-the-road-smiling track.

Sonic Youth - Purr

Sonic Youth are still up there in my favourites, and now I've found Dirty, that's where they're staying. Purr growls along in two-chord sultriness: it's violent, youthful, brilliantly played garage rock. The opening riff is life-affirming and gives me the shivers. The lyrics are simple but definitely thought out. Almost as brilliant are the melancholy Wish Fulfillment and Chapel Hill from the same album.

Maxïmo Park - Wraithlike

A new track from the new album Quicken the Heart, due out in May, Wraithlike has the lo-fi edginess of A Certain Trigger without the polish of album number two. It's a return to their roots, only faster, angrier and with more interesting time signatures.

Peter Doherty - Broken Love Song

Played with 4 guitars onstage live, Broken Love Song is a very pretty track, with lovely lyrics about loneliness and a chord sequence to die for. Nice vibrato on the electric guitar makes this track, as well as Pete's voice, which works very well on this softer album. Want more of Peter being poetic? Try I Am the Rain, it's not as good musically but it's got nice introverted lyrics. Lots of metaphor.

I've been listening to a lot of music this month. Last week last.fm told me I'd listened to about 2 full days of music on my iPod and computer alone. Check these songs out, they might do for you what they do for me.

Peter Doherty @ Birmingham Academy, 25/03/09

The first notable thing about this gig was the number of utter tossers in the crowd. I found it almost upsettingly predictable that Pete attracted this type of fan; it would have been nice to have an intellectual, sober, appreciative crowd, but alas, those fans must have stood at the back, or gone to see Metallica up the road instead.

I'll elaborate. You know that one group of lads with their girlfriends who ruin it for everyone by shouting obscenities, throwing beer, making moshpits, deliberately kicking people, smoking and fighting their way to the front? The one group that everyone is trying to ignore and rolling their eyes at? Well, I think 99% of the crowd were like that last night, or at least at the front. I stayed at the front anyway. Peter sauntered out when people were filing in, just after 7, shook hands on the front row and said hi. That surprised everyone.

The first support act were okay, a band named Red Roots. They played reggae indie, with a black lead singer and bassist, and a white guitarist and drummer: harking back to the days of 2tone. It was nice enough but got dull. There was no second support: friends of Peter wandered on and off the lit stage playing short solo sets. This included Drew McConnell of Babyshambles, who played three fantastic songs, one all in Spanish (for us girls) and one with Niko.

Finally when Peter came on, after Music When The Lights Go Out, he introduced Graham Coxon (to the wrong side of the stage, for me) and Drew again. The next few tracks were from the solo album, and though the crowd were rowdy as Hell, they weren't half singing their hearts out. Peter was on form, singing well. It was a good setlist too, though there was nothing from Shotter's Nation or Up The Bracket in it, a disappointment for me. What A Waster was in there though, the end of the chorus '2-bob cunt' sung with enthusiasm by the rough standing crowd. They got more and more drunk and objectionable, threw more and more beer and shoes and whatever else onstage. Graham Coxon smiled away, but all onstage were unnerved by the amount of beer and personal possessions showering their wires and amps (including a bag which Pete rifled through, 'looking for ID'). Drew on double bass was a crowd-pleaser, and he could play as well, wearing a fantastic Dracula-esque suit that I admired very much.



The crowd were not going to be moved after Peter went off, singing a Babyshambles riff on repeat and chanting. He came back on, played Time For Heroes, before letting Lee Mavers of The La's come on to sing There She Goes (The La's song, not the Babyshambles song). After this, Peter came out and played Beg, Steal Or Borrow and a glorious rendition of Fuck Forever. He stood on the drumkit and we all chanted along.



All in all, the performance was fantastic, but the audience ruined it somewhat, at least at the front of the gig. I like a bit of roughness, rowdiness, or I wouldn't try to get to the barrier, but some of those people were just self-centred gits, really. So, overall, 7/10, I think.

'Grace/Wastelands', Peter Doherty

Peter Doherty is Mr Marmite. Along the way, he has built up a horde of fans who would pay good money for one of his cigarette butts, who won't hear a word against him and want the world to know he's the Messiah. The same way, he has gained a huge number of haters who think he is a waste of space, and as he states perfectly in Broken Love Song, would love to see him swinging in his cell.

This album does not reinforce either position. In fact, it is hard to believe that the same man who causes such intense feelings in people made this album. It is certainly not bad, not with gems like A Little Death Around The Eyes, but it is, dare I say, a little boring. There are 'skip' tracks: Sheepskin Tearaway and Lady Don't Fall Backwards just can't hold my attention, and I don't have the feeling it's going to be too much of a grower.

Peter has one inexplicable skill, however. He can write phrases which evoke strong emotion. Although New Love Grows On Trees is excellent from beginning to end, most songs don't manage to stir the heart all the way through, but most of them have at least a passage, a lyric or a melody which you can float away on, a moment which truly touches the listener. This would be different for everyone of course, but the skill is definitely there, and is found in a lot of things penned by Peter in the past. 1939 Returning, New Love Grows On Trees, Broken Love Song and A Little Death Around The Eyes are standout tracks because they make good use of Pete's talent for inspiring feeling.

This album is a departure from what Peter has done with Babyshambles and The Libertines. It's a lot more laid-back, thoughtful and it makes use of different instruments, like in the ridiculously old-fashioned but well-written The Sweet By & By (which sounds like it should be on an advert for an old-folk's home, or in a light television comedy-drama, and is definitely about Carl Barât). Stephen Street has done a lovely job of the production too, cleaning things up and getting the best out of Peter's drawl, without killing the atmosphere with polish.

The only problem I have, as I have said, is that the formula for each song gets boring. Sometimes, all you want is for someone to turn up the electric guitar and play a great guitar solo, or for the drummer to stop holding back. It's too mellow, I suppose.

I would give this album 7½/10. It's good, well-written, thoughtful music, what you'd expect to happen when Peter went solo to be honest, but that 2½ it missed out on is for the unreached potential, in the absence of the passion and energy that Pete usually cannot keep out of his music.

The Last Of The English Roses, Peter Doherty

So, Pete is finally getting round to releasing that anticipated debut solo album, and this is the first single, to be released on March 9th in the UK? Brilliant! I bet it sounds like The Clash gone acoustic-folk with worse vocals.

Well, I was kind of right. The song opens with surprisingly electronic noises and slightly off-beat drum machine, not like Peter's previous efforts with either of his bands. It uses fairly simple chords which make you want to sway slightly and hum along. The voice comes in and it's recognisably Peter, completely void of saleability and yet perfect to give everything a bit of originality and edge. The vaguely poetic dystopian lyrics are what we've grown to expect from Pete Doherty; "She almost spilt her lager toasting girls of great beauty" and "You were slapped by that slapper and how we all laughed, but she laughed the loudest" for instance, have a certain charm in their simplicity, and when sung in that not-very-tuneful but endearing way that Doherty has down to a tee, they paint a vivid picture.

After a minute or so, it becomes a little repetitive, and the chorus is a let down after the build-up: it just continues to plod in major chords and the rather interesting homoerotic vibe is killed with a 'she'. (I'm certain he says 'coming out, coming alive' at one point, see, and there is gay kissing in the video. I'm not making it up, see for yourself.) It fizzles out in the end without really doing much, though it was a nice listen throughout and didn't get too dull after 3:54.

Overall, I like the song, I'd say 7/10, for the unusually relaxed tempo, good lyrics and memorability. However, I hope the upcoming album ('Grace/Wastelands', out in the UK March 16th) has more passion and grit to offer than this track, because to be honest, it's a bit...well...nice. A bit Radio 2.