WASTED, OR WASTELANDS?

And so the Arcadian dream continues. When Pete and Carl first started their expeditions they seemed fated to reach the Utopia that they had coined ‘Arcadia’ as an escape from the inhospitable inner-London landscape they found themselves in, dubbed Albion. A premise for two albums and what became an inevitable breakdown of [arguably] one of the most innate and intrinsic creative relationships of our time.

Obviously Carl and Pete went on to semi-successful solo careers; one in the balls-out band Dirty Pretty Things with ex members of the Cooper Temple Clause, who began producing songs like ‘Bang Bang You’re Dead’ (an obvious ode to old Doherty) - the kind of driving rock ‘n roll which Barat had always presented in The Libertines in the form of songs like ‘The Boy Looked at Johnny’ and ‘I Get Along’ - whereas Doherty was responsible for the poetic beauty of ‘Music When the Lights Go Out’ and ‘Don’t Look Back Into the Sun’. Unequivocally and somewhat morosely, the two will never be as good as when they were together, and although Babyshambles is a huge body of work with spoken word stream of conscious junkie poet ramblings, it was certainly from the Albion side of the sun, down-and-out, I’m dating a model, I’ve got rat-Amy Winehouse videos going down on You Tube, who am I? What is this? What’s going on?.

Dare I say it, but you kind of get the feeling, drug riddled or not, that he’s starting to come to terms with well, what he’s actually on about, beginning with the aptly titled 'Arcady', an obvious link to his history (and maybe even a hint at his current situation). It’s certainly a more mature recording than any from the back catalogue; string sections, brit pop stalwart Graham Coxon playing guitar, surprisingly clean recording and an appreciatively coherent vocal from Doherty rising and waning along with said violins as in 1939, in the same fashion fellow lad Alex Turner has done with Scott Walker undertones on The Last Shadow Puppets. Quirky bugle and piano playing on tracks like 'Sweet By and By' gives much needed if not comic, at least ironic relief. And there’s no ska!

Ultimately, a couple of things strike you in Grace/Wastelands. One, that no matter how fucked up he is, or how removed from reality he becomes, Doherty still has a meticulous ability to appreciate and prophesize the truth behind the daily grind, and in doing so almost beautify the average. And secondly, that no matter how long ago his time hangin’ at English lit school, or in their shared flat (where they regularly threw rogue shows bringing fan and band together like few have managed, or maintained) was, everything – tales, greatness, musicianship - will always be tied up with (perhaps because both owe it so much creative debt) to the relationship of a life time. Let’s just hope 'Last of the English Roses' is a shedding of old demons rather than a self-fulfilling prophecy.