Curate, connect, and discover
(TL;DR If you only want to read about their new album, scroll way, way down below until the next section, below the horizontal line.)
Generally, Music Shoutout is a place where I talk about relatively unknown or (in my humble opinion) underrated bands, and while The Libertines isn’t exactly unknown–even downright legendary, depending on who you ask–they aren’t as famous as one diehard indie rock-fan would like to think. Their names weren’t as recognizable outside the UK, and in my home country Indonesia, you’d be better off talking about These New Puritans or something (meaning: nobody’s really heard of them both, but you’d be hard-pressed to explain how big The Libs’ influence was). So I’m writing this Shoutout as a primer (sort of) for those who aren’t familiar with them, because their heyday was 11 years ago anyway so you were maybe like, 4 years old at the time.
In honesty I feel a bit unequipped to be talking about The Libertines, because there are already so many articles about them written by actual music journalists who, of course, could form words far more eloquently than I do. But now, obviously, is the perfect time to talk about them since they had just released their third album (!), Anthems For Doomed Youth, after a decade-long hiatus.
The Libertines is a British indie-rock band, composed of lead frontmen/songwriters/vocalists/guitarists/best friends Carl Barat and Pete Doherty (middle-left and middle-right, respectively, in the first group picture above), bassist John Hassall (far-right), and drummer Gary Powell (far-left). They were formed in 1997 and released their first studio album “Up The Bracket” in 2002, reached critical praise and commercial success, released sophomore album self-titled “The Libertines” as a candid account on the mostly-love-but-also-hate relationship between the two frontmen Pete and Carl, and the band dissolved soon afterwards. Their time was short but eventful–with enough history to fill up tabloids full of gossip and several documentaries–but to summarize, it included drugs and betrayal:
“The Libertines legend is action-packed. The full story involves inter-band burglary, toe-curling TV documentaries, Thai monasteries and EastEnders’ Dot Cotton, but the basic facts are thus: group form in 1997, around the fraternal friendship of Doherty and Barât (along with bassist John Hassall and drummer Gary Powell); write songs indebted to both the Clash and Chas and Dave; break down the barriers between artists and fans like no British group since punk; then fall apart when Doherty’s drug intake becomes too much to handle; Barât boots his best friend out of the band until he cleans up his act; the ensuing drama (involving burglary, jail and more drugs) captivates fans until they begin to realise that the Libertines story was all over before it had even begun.” The Guardian.
They were somewhat notorious-and/or-famous in the UK--and while they weren’t quite as much a phenomenon outside of UK, for those initiated, The Libertines made a lasting impression. With startlingly new(-ish, because they certainly had influences from way back) and shocking sound at the time, the band captivated critics and fans alike. They quickly earned massive and extremely dedicated fanbase, while both of their albums routinely listed in Best Albums Of 2000s lists, if not Of All Time, in various publications. Think Oasis, if only a notch below. They had lasting legacy too, with bands like Arctic Monkeys and Franz Ferdinand would not reach the charts without The Libertines (in a similar way, US’ The Strokes paved the way for The Libertines itself).
To the untrained ear, their music might sound like a mess. They are a mess, so to speak, because of their deliberately rough-edged sound, but if one really listens they’d find great lyrical poetry and beautiful melodies beneath the band’s veil of chaos. (watch: Can’t Stand Me Now, and France). And when fans dubbed Pete as true poet, they aren’t joking. He is actually a published poet, and according to one trivia, at age 16 won a poetry competition and went on a tour to Russia for it. Carl is also a literary fan and frequently cited authors as his influences. (the band’s name is taken from Marquis de Sade’s Lust of the Libertines. The song Narcissist is also inspired by Oscar Wilde’s Dorian Gray). Along with British-style wit, self-deprecating charm, and blue-collar worker spirit, that juxtaposition connected with and enlightened sparks of life inside a whole generation of music listeners; most especially the hardened British middle-class worker ones. (watch: Time For Heroes, based on London May Day Riot of 2000)
“It’s like they say: Oasis is the sound of a council estate singing its heart out, and the Libertines is the sound of someone just put in the rubbish chute at the back of the estate, trying to work out what day it was.” Pete Doherty trying to explain their sound.
But judging The Libertines from their published recordings alone is only ill-advised. The band was defined by their adventures almost as well as their music, if not more. They are one of the bands that pioneered using the internet (in the pre-Twitter world) for directly communicating with fans and built a community around it--and they are also the kind of band that used to brand loyal fans with tattoos, played gigs in their own house that once resulted in police interference and sang through it with The Clash cover like it was just another day (watch that old gig), and also gladly sang through a stage-breaking fan like it was, also, another day (watch The Boy Looked At Johnny live performance with one overenthusiastic fan). In true Libertines spirit, of course, they haven’t stopped. They still do, to this day, play “guerilla” gigs--small, intimate, and mostly impromptu gigs--in teeny-tiny clubs, and most recently deviced a pop-up store and a week-long shenanigans with the band (including pub quiz!) for fans to welcome their newest album. From the start, it was clear The Libertines had their own special presence in the music industry, and they had always brought fans-slash-friends along for the ride.
It’s easy to see why fans felt exceptionally strong bond with the band, but it’s also quite hard to explain exactly the allure of The Libertines to the people who’ve never heard or seen them, and especially hard to explain to those who don’t really understand the appeal of the dirty side of rock n’ roll. Not that I imply that The Libertines is the pinnacle of dirty rock ‘n roll–they clearly aren’t–but they don’t try to be “hardcore” or anything like that, and therefore in my eyes, makes them really, really are. My point is, The Libertines’ charm isn’t quantifiable or even explainable, they’re just something that you believe in. To this day, fans would do pilgrimage to staple places of the band’s history (such as Albion Rooms–Pete and Carl’s old flat in which they sometimes held said gig–or a London alley from Up The Bracket’s music video (watch) in which fans would still inscribe drawings or quotes on the wall). The band’s live performances, of course, are always pure, frantic, and kind of unhinged that the fans will always know that their watching the bands’ true self.
“Other groups sold out bigger venues, had more hits and made better albums – but no other band gave music fans something to believe in quite like the Libertines.” The Guardian.
In their own way, The Libertines would frequently remind you of a fiendishly fierce whirlwind romance, because maybe they are one. Pete and Carl’s relationship is hard to explain except maybe in one word: soulmates. In an interview talking about how they met, Pete said about Carl, “I was fascinated by ideas he had about himself and the country. I’d never met anyone like him. It was - what’s the word when you can’t take your eyes off someone? …Yes, it was riveting. Despite everything, you knew there was goodness there. Something to believe in. Something which is good, pure and untainted by anything.” And Carl said, “I think I felt a bit trapped before I met Pete. Have you seen The Lavender Hill Mob? Alec Guinness plays this wonderful, colourful person who locks it all up and goes through the motions. I always felt a bit like that. But then I met the Pigman (ed: nickname for Pete) and he said, ‘You can actually knock that on the head and get out.’ So we threw ourselves into eternity. And it worked.” While they most assuredly aren’t couples or lovers (because love comes in more than one kind, we aren’t five year-olds), their relationship was indeed like “first love, and all the jealousy and obsessiveness that comes with that”. Their mutual love and respect continued, even when they were apart and hated each other, and it is that fuel that burns the band. They’re one of the greatest pairing in modern musical world–always bouncing off to one another on stage and have a habit of singing on a single microphone. They’re the ultimate bros, on stage and off stage, and it’s that bond that captivated listeners too.
A third The Libertines album might sound so far-fetched not even a year ago, but here we are, rejoicing its release and finally listening to their newest album Anthems For Doomed Youth. More than a decade have passed by and no one stayed the same after 11 years, and so didn’t The Libertines. I didn’t really follow Pete’s music during the hiatus (he did have a really good solo album, though), but through Carl’s wildly different stuff throughout the years (Dirty Pretty Things, solo album, Carl Barat and The Jackals) it was clear that no one could stay the same. So The Libertines have evolved, and considering how much of their spirit relied on the chaos of youth--and they aren’t exactly young anymore, that’s good.
The album might sound uncharacteristically clean at first, but every bit of The Libertines is still there--if a little bit more mature, for lack of better word. The album might lack a sense of urgent charm that their albums used to have, but they make it up with a more competent, sympathetic, and introspective touch around their usual themes: intermittent self-aggrandizing and self-pity, lament of lost innocence, and full-on romanticism. Maybe the most stark difference can be felt through You’re My Waterloo, an old track (an ode from Pete to Carl) from the band’s back catalogue. Never been officially released but frequently played, this piano-heavy version have a sweeter, gentler vibe throughout the song that we maybe would not get from the old Libertines.
Treading the line between glories past and present, Anthems of Doomed Youth is definitely an older, wiser version of The Libertines, but they’re still the likely lads that we knew.. And for new listeners: just sit back and enjoy, it’ll be a good ride.