Babyshambles - Down inAlbion

Tue 22nd Nov, 2005 in Music Reviews

Hang on, are you sure? Can you double check? You mean our man Pete Doherty – the same Pete Doherty who makes headlines for his on-and-off-again relationship with Cocaine Kate, the same Pete Doherty who hangs out at fashion parties in Paris on a regular basis despite his personal fashion revolving around natty t-shirts and ripped jeans, the same Pete Doherty who has been chastised by everyone from Justin Hawkins to Chris Martin to Sharon bleeding Osbourne - actually plays music? Blimey.

But wait, hang on, I just had a flashback to 2002. The Libertines debut album Up The Bracket has just been released and it’s one of the finest British rock albums in a long time. It’s short, smart and snarly. Doherty and Carl Barat are leather clad, shaggy haired boys widely tipped to become ‘The British Strokes,’ before it all goes pear-shaped. Since then, Doherty served time in prison for robbing Barat’s flat (stealing, among other things, an NME award to feed his crack habit), has been in and out of rehab, was fired and re-hired for The Libertines, needed security guards to separate him and Barat from coming to blows during the recording of the band’s second (and final) eponymous album before finally splitting – incredibly unceremoniously, it must be said – from the band, who subsequently split, to start Babyshambles.

So finally, this is Doherty’s chance to prove himself. To prove that all the bullshit he’s put his fans through has been worth it. That his self-professed ‘British poet’ status isn’t all lies. But Up The Albion is a confused, ramshackle mess. Fraught with ill-conceived moves into reggae and dub, the album spends more time wading knee-deep in acoustica than concentrating on the Clash/Buzzcocks style punk pop that made The Libertines revered by many (I Get Along, Time For Heroes, Can’t Stand Me Now, anyone?). But that’s OK, right? So Doherty’s progressed, right?

Opening track Le Belle Et La Bete is curious, a quiet, almost storytime-esque track which takes almost three minutes to kick in. It’s stop-start, Doherty laughs halfway through and appears to forget the lyrics several time as well as employing the use of Cocaine Kate who whispers “is she more beautiful than me?” ad nauseum.

Before being recorded, Fuck Forever was touted by the NME as “Britain’s answer to Teen Spirit.” While various live bootlegs of the song floating around online prove genuinely exhilarating, the recorded version unfortunately comes across like The Vines’ dour Fuck The World – soulless, lifeless and forced. Doherty’s howl of “what’s the use between death and glory / New Labour or Tory?” is drowned out by guitars and bass while the anthemic chorus loses its touch in the mix.

Although, Fuck Forever is one of the few glimpses of electric guitar throughout the album. A sped up version of Killamangiro – the band’s first single proper in the UK – is a truly exciting blast of punk pop and one of the rare moments on Albion that stands up to The Libertines’ back catalogue.

Pipedown is Doherty’s take on sly, knowing self-awareness. “Oh Patty, put the pipe down / if you’ve got the right sound,” he lackadaisically drawls, before asking his charges with a slur “can you play No Fun?” while they tear into the Stooges song of the same name proving that yes, that can indeed play No Fun.

8 Dead Boys is one of the more accessible guitar-friendly tracks here while next single Albion is a heart-warming acoustic offering which serves as a reminder that despite all the tabloid bullshit and constant disappointments, the Doherty that supposedly “spoke to a generation of British kids” on Up The Bracket still exists.

Elsewhere, Down In Albion is plain weird. The inexcusable Pentonville is a four-minute Rasta rap by General Santana, a mate of Doherty’s who met the rocker while they were both serving time in the clink earlier in the year. Bearing to semblance to a song, the track’s inclusion on the album is baffling to say the least.

It’s not an isolated case. Sticks and Stones is five minutes of sub-standard reggae over which Doherty moans “they said I was as good as dead,” while all the while sounding close to it. In Love With A Feeling and Back From The Dead both revolve around strong melody-based ideas but suffer from loose production.

There are two main problems with Down In Albion. Firstly, Doherty’s voice is depressingly sub-par. The snotty, attitude-charged snarl that co-led The Libertines has been replaced by a tuneless drone for the most part – whether due to debaucherous studio sessions or an intended, pre-conceived plan to live up to the media’s portrayal of him as a no-hope junkie remains to be seen. Promising song ideas are constantly destroyed by his lack of vocal attitude, conviction or passion.

Secondly, Mick Jones’ production seems all to eager to ensure that Down In Albion comes across like a shambolic, “punk rock” mess and if the album was intended to sound like a series of unfinished demos, Jones has succeeded. (Listeners, meanwhile, may find themselves double-checking that they have a commercial release in their hands rather than a CD-R of unmixed, half-baked ideas).

All in all, Down In Albion does little to quash Doherty’s claim that the album would redeem himself in the eyes of disgruntled fans, pissed off at the constant gig cancellations. Of course, those unfamiliar with The Libertines’ two albums may find something here of worth. But for those who found the sharp observations of “there are few more distressing sights than that of an English man in a baseball cap” (Time For Heroes) poetic and witty, you may want to look to get your kicks elsewhere.

So, The Libertines are the new At The Drive In, it seems. But instead of splitting two ways like the big-haired Texans (Mars Volta and Sparta), The Libertines have instead gone three. Aside from Babyshambles, Libertines bassist John Hassell is the frontman for country-tinged rockers Yeti, while Carl Barat and Libertines drummer Gary Powell have joined forces with former Libertines guitar tech Anthony Rossomando (who served as Doherty’s stand-in on the Australian 2004 shows) and the Cooper Temple Clause’s Didz Hammond to form Dirty Pretty Things, who recently played in Italy and promise some new sounds in the new year.

Yes, The Libertines were a fantastic band. And Doherty’s talent has never been in doubt. But Down In Albion does not adequately reflect the song writing or vocal talents of the man. Perhaps is Doherty frees himself of the tabloid mess he has gotten himself into, Babyshambles will be capable of releasing something brilliant. But their debut effort isn’t it.