“Here, listen to this,” she said. We had finally sat down on a little bench with a cup of coffee and a ciggie, after looking for half an hour for this cute little coffee shop off Greenwich Street just south of the Meatpacking District. “What Katie Did,” by the Libertines – not my usual cup o’ tea, and she knew that better than anyone. It was one of the great passions we shared, music. We had broken up half a year ago, but she had agreed to meet up again from time to time. I still loved her. It made me feel connected that she wanted to share this new song she found (well, it was new for us). No matter what the lyrics are really about, I couldn’t help but feel that the song was about us – a guy whose life is falling apart and wondering what his girl will do. “You’re a sweet, sweet girl, but it’s a cruel, cruel world.” A simple yet effective arrangement, fuzzy electric guitar, walking bass, a one-two soft punk beat with a jazz feel. “Shoop-shoop, shoop de-lang a-lang.” It’s a cheerful tune that you’ll whistle along to for weeks – once it’s stuck, you won’t get it out of your head. I told her I would get the album, but she said not to worry, because the rest sounded like a bunch of drunks stumbling in a bar fight.
Being who I am (an avid collector of music) I did get the Libertines’ two albums, as well as the Babyshambles and the Dirty Pretty Things. She was right, though, my ex-girlfriend – she always was – most of their music sounds like a bunch of drunken brawls. Despite the steady teaching job, I felt like a drunk fuckup myself, at the time, and I thought this was the perfect music for hanging out in Williamsburg or Bushwick late at night. She’d complained about the hipsters on Bedford. I’d seen them, too, with their ironic inauthenticity, their beards and lumber shirts. I just didn’t care – at least, I didn’t resent them as much as she did. I had come to enjoy hanging out with her sister or other friends in Williamsburg, drinking Stella and Jack until I puked my guts out. Maybe I wasn’t snorting cocaine or shooting heroin, but it seemed fitting. “Vertigo,” “Up the Bracket,” “Road to Ruin,” “The Likely Lads.” Stumbling along Bedford, Union or Metropolitan, Pete Doherty and friends seemed like the right kind of accompaniment for my state of mind. Some two years later – and worlds away from there – that also explains perhaps why it’s rather painful for me now to hear this alcoholic melancholy music.
In addition to “What Katie Did,” my favorites actually tend to be the more quietly wistful, often acoustic songs, like “Radio America” (Up the Bracket, 2002), “Music When the Lights Go Out” and “France” (The Libertines, 2004), “Albion” and “Merry Go Round” (Down in Albion, 2005), “UnBiloTitled,” “There She Goes” and the beautiful “Lost Art of Murder” (Shotter’s Nation, 2007). As their singles, such as “Time for Heroes” and “Can’t Stand Me Now,” illustrate best, The Libertines and their off-shoots were part of the post-punk/garage rock revival of the 2000s – which also include other “The” bands like The Hives, The Vines, The Stokes, The White Stripes, The Von Buddies and The Killers. Not surprising, since Mick Jones of The Clash produced most of their music, a few songs also grab you with a real punk-drunk energy, like “Horrorshow,” “I Get Along,” “Arbeit Macht Frei,” “The Saga,” “Deadwood” and “You Fucking Love It” – Down in Albion often sounds like The Clash.
Some songs sound like garage-rock throw-backs to The Beatles and The Kinks, like “Boys in the Band,” “Last Post on the Bugle,” “The 32nd of December,” “Delivery” (which essentially lifts the riff from “You Really Got Me”) and most of Carl Barât’s Dirty Pretty Things (what with a title like Waterloo to Anywhere, 2006). “The Boy Looked at Johnny,” “8 Dead Boys” and “Gin & Milk,” are other good examples of those alcohol-infused brawls. I’d also wish to mention the opening song on Down in Albion, “La Belle et la Bête,” with its walking bass and rolling drums, shared vocals with Kate Moss and catchy melody. The song indicates a deliberate attempt to shift away from The Libertines, while remaining recognizably Doherty. More so than the Dirty Pretty Things, I am actually quite partial generally to the Babyshambles. Doherty not only has a way with words lyrically, he also has a knack for melody which can be simultaneously cheerful and filled with regret. If you’re not already familiar with their music, and you enjoy some of the other revivalist “The” bands, I’d say give Babyshambles’ Shotter’s Nation a spin.
Being who I am (an avid collector of music) I did get the Libertines’ two albums, as well as the Babyshambles and the Dirty Pretty Things. She was right, though, my ex-girlfriend – she always was – most of their music sounds like a bunch of drunken brawls. Despite the steady teaching job, I felt like a drunk fuckup myself, at the time, and I thought this was the perfect music for hanging out in Williamsburg or Bushwick late at night. She’d complained about the hipsters on Bedford. I’d seen them, too, with their ironic inauthenticity, their beards and lumber shirts. I just didn’t care – at least, I didn’t resent them as much as she did. I had come to enjoy hanging out with her sister or other friends in Williamsburg, drinking Stella and Jack until I puked my guts out. Maybe I wasn’t snorting cocaine or shooting heroin, but it seemed fitting. “Vertigo,” “Up the Bracket,” “Road to Ruin,” “The Likely Lads.” Stumbling along Bedford, Union or Metropolitan, Pete Doherty and friends seemed like the right kind of accompaniment for my state of mind. Some two years later – and worlds away from there – that also explains perhaps why it’s rather painful for me now to hear this alcoholic melancholy music.In addition to “What Katie Did,” my favorites actually tend to be the more quietly wistful, often acoustic songs, like “Radio America” (Up the Bracket, 2002), “Music When the Lights Go Out” and “France” (The Libertines, 2004), “Albion” and “Merry Go Round” (Down in Albion, 2005), “UnBiloTitled,” “There She Goes” and the beautiful “Lost Art of Murder” (Shotter’s Nation, 2007). As their singles, such as “Time for Heroes” and “Can’t Stand Me Now,” illustrate best, The Libertines and their off-shoots were part of the post-punk/garage rock revival of the 2000s – which also include other “The” bands like The Hives, The Vines, The Stokes, The White Stripes, The Von Buddies and The Killers. Not surprising, since Mick Jones of The Clash produced most of their music, a few songs also grab you with a real punk-drunk energy, like “Horrorshow,” “I Get Along,” “Arbeit Macht Frei,” “The Saga,” “Deadwood” and “You Fucking Love It” – Down in Albion often sounds like The Clash.Some songs sound like garage-rock throw-backs to The Beatles and The Kinks, like “Boys in the Band,” “Last Post on the Bugle,” “The 32nd of December,” “Delivery” (which essentially lifts the riff from “You Really Got Me”) and most of Carl Barât’s Dirty Pretty Things (what with a title like Waterloo to Anywhere, 2006). “The Boy Looked at Johnny,” “8 Dead Boys” and “Gin & Milk,” are other good examples of those alcohol-infused brawls. I’d also wish to mention the opening song on Down in Albion, “La Belle et la Bête,” with its walking bass and rolling drums, shared vocals with Kate Moss and catchy melody. The song indicates a deliberate attempt to shift away from The Libertines, while remaining recognizably Doherty. More so than the Dirty Pretty Things, I am actually quite partial generally to the Babyshambles. Doherty not only has a way with words lyrically, he also has a knack for melody which can be simultaneously cheerful and filled with regret. If you’re not already familiar with their music, and you enjoy some of the other revivalist “The” bands, I’d say give Babyshambles’ Shotter’s Nation a spin. 
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.