A Pocketful of Mumbles: Pete Doherty

Back to blogging. It's been a while since I've written anything, but then I have no desire to force out words over music that doesn't get my pulse racing, and it has indeed been a while since an album has emerged from the murky, unreliable undercurrent of the 21st century music industry and, to my utmost pleasure, unapologetically smashed me around the face. As I stroll through life, I often try to make sense of myself via the medium of song. If I find life particularly taxing at any given moment, the chances are that I'm lacking the solace; the private empathetic and inspirational weapon that I inject into my ear drums and utilise as a survival technique to deal with anything that comes my way. Fortunately for me then that Babyshambles' latest offering; Sequel to the Prequel, came about just at the crucial moment that I could use Mr Doherty's special brand of gentlemanly, intellectual punk-poetry to wistfully strut around to.

Sequel to the Prequel has it all. It generously delivers everything that we've learnt to expect from a Babyshambles album; great riffs, tattoo-ably brilliant lyrics, raw attitude and the kind of swagger that, with a few exceptions, we have not really been treated to since the heady rock n' roll golden ages of yesteryear. With this album comes the poignant reminder that music like this does not come along every day, and when listening to Sequel to the Prequel for the first time, it was a joyous end to a musical drought that I didn't even realise was raging. Pete Doherty has once again proven himself to be the ring master of it all; a remorseless hunter of hedonism and a loveable rogue with a lifeblood of creativity pulsing through every (other) vein. Time and time again the world has been guilty of questioning whether he has taken things too far this time; 'has the genius dried up?' a thousand ignorant journalists ask in futile rhetoric, and the answer is of course; no. His lifestyle breeds inspiration and creativity, and thankfully his unique talent to act as the satellite for these moonstruck thoughts and experiences means that we all get to revel in his exploits.

The album is fantastic. There's not a great deal to say apart from; listen to it yourself. Listen to it as you walk through the crisp autumn air, listen to it on buses, play it unreasonably loud from park benches, listen to it in the dark, put it on when you're lying in bed alone, put it on when you're lying in bed together. It's got it all. The ballsy opener of Fireman is an old school punk anthem, unexpected and sloppy but in that unique and loveable Babyshambles way. While the lead single Nothing Comes to Nothing isn't them at their best, it still has it's own merit and is a prime example of Pete's hopeless romantic side, full of longing and self-contradiction; 'nothing ever comes to nothing without my baby/nothing's ever good for nothing with that lady'.

Personally, it's track three and onward that has elbowed this album into becoming a permanent tool in my enduring arsenal. Every song that follows has it's own excellent cocktail to bring to the party; often reminiscent of their older works but in a great way; a way that quenches your thirst and adds to the hunger for more Babyshambles, not in a way that so many bands have done recently by churning out what sounds like an alternative take on their one (off) masterpiece. Songs like New Park and Maybeline are so undeniably born of this band and yet so satisfyingly fresh that twenty-five or so listens later I'm still getting kicks off every note. The obligatory 'Shambles interlude - Sequel to the Prequel - actually manifests into a full on piece of artistry which left me feeling a fool for dismissing it as another Pentonville.

While it's hard not to discuss every song, I shall attempt not to in respect of my own loathing for those awful reviews which dissect albums like insects in a Petrie dish instead of appreciating them as they were intended; a fifty-ish minute experience built for your sensual pleasure. A special mention must go out to my three favourite tracks however (at least, my three favourites at this incredibly specific moment at 8.49pm on Monday 16th September 2013); Dr No where the band once again bring their unique reggae inspired sound to the forefront, Penguins which contains some of the most outstandingly simple and yet undeniably perfect lyrics I've heard for a long while; 'I really don't like your boyfriend's face/and I'm going to try and take his place', and finally; Minefield. I would go as far as to rate Minefield as the best song of 2013. Seriously. The guitar is so deeply sexual, the lyrics so penetrating, the eruption of the song so volcanic - all I want to do when I listen to this song is lose my shit in a sweaty club, safe in the knowledge that nothing outside of that moment in space and time will ever matter.

Listen to it.

When one reaches the end of the deluxe version to find a typically endearing Doherty cover of the Velvet Underground's After Hours, it is hard to want any more from life. After Hours has, for many years, been a fantastic song, and while the lyrics are so dreamily spot-on, encapsulating a feeling and a moment in time that is all so perfect - this version injects a little more joy to the occasion, not leaving you feeling quite so dirty about never wanting to see the day again. Although still a little dirty, obviously.

In conclusion, there is no disappointment to be found within the rich, expansive lands of Sequel to the Prequel. There are wonders and surprises to be found in every song, with every listen. Like all the best lyricists, Pete's words are layered in such a way that you can find a new favourite line for each hour of the day, and then some. In my wildest desires a more perfect soundtrack to these uncertain autumn months could not have fallen into my hands, and the fact that it was delivered by the majestic Doherty - a man who once told me I had powerful eyes as he smoked my menthol cigarette in a dark Camden doorway - makes it all the more delicious. I now anticipate the arrival of this audio in it's most attractive twelve inch physical format, when I shall revel in discovering it all over again.

Turn off those lights. Here's Minefield;

Sometimes it is hard to deny that the old ways are the best. While this may be true of many things, there is a definite romanticism of a time gone by when - while it may or may not have been the case – there was a sense of quality, truth and simplistic beauty in the way people lived and the way that things were produced. This is certainly the way I feel about music, and while it may be a bit of a cliché to declare that the greatest albums were made prior to the turn of the 21^st century, if not long before, what I am mainly talking about here is the evolution of the physical (and digital) musical format and subsequent loss of album artwork.

The cover of a great album has shown itself to have the capacity to become as iconic as the music itself, with images such as The Dark Side of the Moon prism and the Abbey Road zebra crossing being forever etched on public conciseness – perhaps in these cases, even identifiable by those few who have not listened to the albums themselves. This is why I believe one of the most distressing things about the rise of the mp3 to be, aside from the ease at which we evade honouring an album by playing it in its entirety, that there is no longer the appreciation of album artwork.

Long have I fantasised about what it must have been like in the golden-age of vinyl, at which time you would leave your front door with enough money in your pocket to head down to the local music shop to purchase the latest album release by your favourite band. Racing down the aisles to the new release section and gripping that glorious physical 12 inch square piece of art in your hands for the first time, before racing home and devouring it with your eyes and ears as you pour over the sleeve and inserts within. Call me nostalgic, but that’s got to be better than a click of the mouse as £8.99 is removed from your bank account in exchange for an invisible musical concept.

While the ipod is a fantastic thing and fabulous in many ways, it is hard not to overlook the fact that all the wonderful artwork, new and old, is now being forgotten and overlooked thanks to the confides of a thumbnail image. Not only this, but it marks the death of the back cover (the qualities of which were often found in its ability to portray a brilliant photograph or image which never quite made the cut of the front). It is a real shame that album artwork isn’t getting the appreciation that it deserves these days, both in terms of the fantastic pieces that are still being produced, and also for those people who are currently discovering the wonderful music of the past fifty years, but yet not getting the whole sensory experience.

It might be worth arguing that at least with albums of the vinyl, and even CD eras, they have had their time and appreciation in larger formats, and the real crime is that brilliant new pieces are never escaping out of the confides of a 2.5 cm square. I was reminded of this most recently when I purchased Florence and The Machine’s album Lungs on vinyl, and was blown away by the richness and detail of an album cover which I already knew to be beautiful, but had never been able to appreciate it for its true splendour. Formatted in a gatefold, filled with stunning imagery and plentiful sleeve notes, it really takes a generous amount of time to take it all in - the only shame being that it won’t reach a wider audience.

As is the case with Lungs, it is great to see that artists and record companies are still producing vinyl copies of their albums, and this is due in part to the resurgence in popularity of old formats. I’m incredibly pleased that there is still a great passion and interest in these things, and that even those brought up in the digital age are keen to appreciate music as it was intended, and I really hope this trend continues.

Below I have included eight album covers; four pre-digital and four post, yet all equally brilliant and worthy of attention. Feel free to click on each of them to appreciate them in high resolution.