Posted By Ben W. on April 8, 2009

Pete Doherty is going solo these days. No more band; just the man. And hilariously, he actually wants you to call him Peter – not Pete – on this, his solo debut.

But full birth names aside, he hasn’t changed that much. He’s still singing like a burned-out Joe Strummer. Still romanticizing death. Still reveling in broken hearts. Still peddling his image as the drug-addled dreamer.

There is, however, one point that differentiates this solo outing from his two Babyshambles albums. And it’s not a small one. 

The songs on this album are good. Very, very good in some cases.

Think of the gentle romance and heartache found on 2005 Babyshambles single “Albion” – arguably the high-water mark of Doherty’s career. Now extend that across an entire album and you’re close to what Doherty has achieved here. Unlike that song, this album features more than just Doherty and an acoustic guitar. Graham Coxon and members of Babyshambles turn up on several tracks. Final Fantasy violinist Owen Pallett even contributes lush strings. Songs such as “A Little Death Around The Eyes” and “Sweet By And By” are buoyed by the most detailed arrangements of Doherty’s career. All the while, Stephen Street’s superb production touch is able to retain the “Albion” sense of magic and mystery amidst the extravagance.

Street also produced the Babyshambles’ 2007 debacle Shotter’s Nation, though.  That album was supposed to offer a newly refined and mature Doherty sound, but wound up only sounding tepid, drab and dull. True, the off-the-rails rockers were gone. But a series of mid-tempo, mid-volume snoozers were not sufficient replacement.

And you won’t be faulted if you fear you’re in for more of the same at the start of Grace/Wastelands. Lead single, “The Last Of The English Roses,” follows the Shotter’s model. It beats along to a tinny drum loop, never offering anything particularly memorable lyrically or melodically, except that it does manage to crib titles from both Morrissey (“The Last Of The Famous International Playboys“) and The Jam (“English Rose”) earning it special mention in the Most Derivative Britpop Single of the Year category. “Arcadie” is another good-but-not-great song – a jaunty acoustic number that’s most endearing quality is that it sounds not unlike The White Stripes‘ “We’re Going To Be Friends.” Those two songs comprise the first seven minutes. But don’t worry. It gets better.

“1939 Returning” is the album’s first indication of greatness. Doherty juxtaposes a German spy caught behind enemy lines in World War II with a modern woman staring blankly at a TV Guide. It doesn’t make a ton of sense, but combined with an eerily beautiful melody, haunting strings and a typically forlorn Pete vocal, it’s the stuff of magic.

The mood extends with “A Little Death Around The Eyes.” It seems a macho victory song when our singer brags cheekily of stealing a man’s girlfriend – “Your boyfriend’s name was Dave, but I was bold and brave, and now you’re mine.” Oh, but it’s not so simple. The backing is a melodramatic slice of cinematic French pop with Street’s carnival organ and Pallett’s strings creating a majestic but terrifying world. It’s the sound of Doherty’s typical romantic wonderland gone terribly awry. Doherty has previously tried to sound insane by using cheap lyrical references to crack pipes and heroin needles. Here, he doesn’t have to rely on such gimmicks. He truly sounds demented in the second verse as he mumbles “You can cook and clean and sew when I tell you to; Dance and screw when I want you to; In the hotel room you take your medicine; On all fours with your medicine.” It’s miserable. It’s desperate. It’s more than a little frightening. And it’s flipping brilliant.

That segues directly into “Salome” – musically simpler  but no less beautiful. And yes, I know it’s just another Doherty drug song. But this isn’t him whining “Patty put the pipe down” anymore. This is a more mature, more poetic look at addiction. The song’s title character appears from the flames to save our singer from the cold. But in true Lady Macbeth fashion, she demands “John the Baptist on a plate.” Later it’s “Isadora Duncan on a plate,” before finally just “the head of any bastard on a plate.” I don’t have a lot of patience for someone whose constant moaning about drug addiction borders on self-congratulation. But using a Macbeth metaphor over a gorgeous melody? I can get on board with that.

Unfortunately, the album stumbles a bit in the middle. “I Am The Rain,” “Palace Of Bone” and “Sheepskin Tearaway” each are pleasant enough but feel fairly disposable after the trio of gold that precedes them. “Sweet By And By” is downright misguided – an attempt at back-room New Orleans jazz that recalls more Doherty’s pointless genre hopping on the first Babyshambles record. His finest moments are when he is at his most genuine. This cartoonish song clearly is not one of those moments.

The good news is the album saves two more stunners for us near the end. “Broken Love Song” broods a bit in the verse before exploding into the album’s best chorus. Doherty sings “They are the loneliest, they are the loneliest,” anthmically over dramatic pianos and organs. Second single “New Love Grows On Trees” follows and is the best thing he’s done in ages. Two overactive rhythmic acoustic guitars, an upright bass and Coxon’s series of guitar atmospherics create a groove that, like “A Little Death Around The Eyes,” recalls 1960s French pop. The melodies are great and the lyrics even greater.

Part of the fun with Doherty’s very public backstory is assuming his songs refer to either Kate Moss or the Libertines. “New Love” certainly could apply to both. To Kate – with “I remember every single thing you said to me; you played the man and I was the calvary; and you said new love grows on tree… That makes perfect nonsense to me; as the price of being free these days, it’s ridiculous.” To Carl Barat – with “Are you still shaking out all of the deadwood from your bed, love, like you used to? Well times don’t change; Are you still thinking up all of those perfect lines for love to bind? You really don’t have to.” And of course it’s probably about neither, so you can apply it however you want to your own life. The hallmark of great songwriting, no?

It’s funny because Pete Doherty probably was overrated for awhile, riding the huge success in England of the two Libertines albums. But now he may be a little underrated. Critical backlash has him buried under a popular sentiment that says, “Oh, Pete Doherty isn’t a real musician; he’s just a celebrity.”

And yeah, he’s certainly done well to earn that reputation with his string of run-ins with the law and consistently inconsistent records.

But be careful dismissing such a talent. If you subscribe to that line of thinking, you’re missing out on one of the year’s best albums.

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Categories: Reviews
Tags: Pete Doherty, The Libertines