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Like
Blondie, Babyshambles are not a person, they are a band. They're
a band of which a certain Pete Doherty is part. And much like Paddington
Bear, you'd have to live in deepest Peru not to have some opinion
on Hexham born Doherty.
With
his trademark dirty suit and pasty complexion, the guy glares out
of the tabloids, he pouts in the women's glossies, he's critically
acclaimed in the rock press. Broadsheets too highbrow to bother
with grubby little rockers debate academically the phenomenon that
is Pete. Even the BBC got in on the act, showing a documentary aptly
titled 'who the fxxx is Pete Doherty?'.
Babyshambles
are a band who are Very Important..because. Let's have a potted
history. Pete Doherty, with mate Carl Barat formed the Libertines,
the maddest, baddest rock band around. Loved by the NME, adored
by the fans, they released two albums before imploding in a whirl
of bitterness and for Pete, a stint in Pentonville Prison.
Fresh
out of the slammer, Pete set up Babyshambles, the genius of the
Libertines with the added interest of his fast growing smack and
crack habit. Babyshambles gigs are the stuff of legend. No shows,
full scale riots, 'tired and emotional' performances. Then he hooked
up with supermodel Kate ‘cocaine shocker’ Moss, and the
rock star became an icon.
To
the amazement of media and fans alike, it's the lowly Brickyard
in lowly Carlisle in the musical wasteland that’s Cumbria which
has landed the holy grail. Been bestowed the honour of launching
Babyshambles long awaited, twice postponed tour. Tickets for this
gig were like goldust, selling out in 24 hours, with illegal copies
being sold on the internet.
It’s
no surprise then that the venue was rammed to capacity, the atmosphere
electric beyond the usual sweat and anticipation. Youth, and anger
and energy - it was tooth grindingly infectious. The national media
were out in force crammed next to the bar – Radio 1, the Guardian,
and the News of the World to name a few. A Tuesday night in Carlisle
had become a very big deal.
The
support act didn’t stand a chance. Blonde bloke with guitar.
That’s it. Apparently it was Babyshamble’s new manager,
the latest in a long line, but nobody really cared.
And
then there was an audible gasp as they walked from behind the bar
and onto the stage followed by a beat of awed silence, and then
the crowd roared. It was the pounding, thumping rush of adrenaline
that you only get in a small, packed out room, from a crowd confronted
with a real life icon in their backyard. Not since a particularly
emotional Morrissey concert, have I seen such a fusion of screaming,
hysterical, lust lost girls..and boys.
They
launched into a blistering cover of The Who’s My Generation
and the crowd went crazy. Pete delivering a remarkably lucid performance,
dressed in his trademark suit, ripped from shoulder to waist. The
music seems to have been lost in all the hype of Doherty, but these
are some serious musicians. They move fluidly through tight, spiky
punk riffs, to the throbbing bass of ska-pop, their new drummer
bashing the sticks like a speed metal connoisseur. Playing tightly
as they ripped through the set, a mix of Babyshambles material,
and covers, the performance got increasingly frenzied.
At one point during the brilliant, if disturbing, ‘Killamangiro’,
Pete knelt on the ground beating the mic stand into the stage
floor
like a man possessed.
| "F*****g
Brilliant. After everything that's been written in the papers,
he's restored the faith in his fans. He was absolutely top notch." |
| Marissa,
Whitehaven. |
Pete’s
voice makes this band. It reaches out across the fag smoke, sweat,
and beer bravado to grasp the everyman where it hurts, speaking
of passion, pain, love and longing. Like the Arcadian conjurer he
embodies, or should that be Byronic punk? Whatever. In the midst
of the punkpop, his lyrical mastery juggles with our darkest thoughts,
and a poet speaks. It's the intangible talent that turned Kurt Cobain
from midwest grunger to Voice Of A Generation ™. There's no
artifice here. And the crowd knows it. This band are doing it for
real.
They
finish the set, returning for a three song encore, leave again and
run back on for a second encore as some of the crowd storm the stage,
the bouncers looking on unsure of what to do. It feels a hairbreath
away from some proper rock and roll rioting, and when Pete, vodka
bottle in hand, throws himself into the crowd, the moshers at the
front reach up to catch him like the disciples they are.
| "I can't
believe I've just seen Babyshambles in Carlisle. He signed my
T-Shirt!! He's a fantastic bloke." |
| Lee, Whitehaven. |
As
the band launch into their latest top 10 single Fxxx Forever, it
was clear something had changed during the two hour mind-blowing
performance The band had started brilliantly but sedately. By the
end the stage was filled with a man who really didn’t give
a fxxx about his forever. This is the dichotomy that Doherty faces.
Poet or Rockstar. Can he survive the destiny that has been mapped
out for him by the media. He seems a stunningly intelligent man
hellbent on destruction. What that means for the future of Babyshambles
who knows. But as the band wandered down Fisher Street surrounded
by breathless fans, what is certain is, this is a band moving swiftly
from cult musicians to bonafida rock canon legends.
Exclusive
pics from the gig »
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