Babyshambles - Down in Albion

Not since the release of every shoddy live show that the Sex Pistols recorded or the release of the acid-fried ramblings of Syd Barrett on The Madcap Laughs has so much time and effort been put into the release of what is an amazingly sub-par album as there has been with the first Babyshambles effort, Down In Albion. The record, which features slurring vocals, half-hearted musicianship and an overall rough, tinny sound, can either be a strike against the gleaming, overproduced world of modern day pop music or a laughable effort that has moments of rock ‘n’ roll fun amidst the chaos.

The reasons for this album seeing the light of day are obvious. Fronting the band is one of the most talked about men in England and one of the most highly regarded drug casualties to have yet to hit age 30, Pete Doherty. His crack-smoking, supermodel dating, and car stealing fiascos have been grist for the mill of the English tabloids and has been reported in large articles in Rolling Stone and Mojo magazines here in the States. Anyone who has inhaled, smoked, and injected as much as Doherty has and is still able to get behind a microphone and sound (mostly coherent) probably deserves to have their album given the large promotional push that Rough Trade is putting behind it. Still, when you listen to the record, you wonder if it was worth all the trouble.

Take the first track off the album, “La Belle et La Bete”, for the most immediate example. It starts off promisingly enough with a scratchy guitar line and a rolling swing drum beat, but when Doherty enters the picture, it all falls apart. He stumbles his way through the first two verses and when he makes his way to a refrain, you can actually hear the drummer lose his way briefly and the rest of the band follows suit. By the time the next verse comes along, Doherty has either forgotten the words or dropped his lyric sheet and makes a game, slurry swipe at words but instead sounds like an angry, delusional wino. The track could descend into chaos, but after five minutes the music fades out quickly so we might never know what really happened. My guess is that it is something like the end of the closing track, “Merry Go Round”, where you can hear what sounds like Doherty collapsing to the floor (as well as the undoubtedly oft-asked question “Is Pete alright?”).

The rest of the album stumbles along much the same line with some stylistic variations thrown in for good measure (the reggae toasting that accompanies “Pentonville”, the Stone Roses-like psychedelia of “The 32nd of December”, and the rocksteady rhythms of “What Katy Did Next”). The boys playing the instruments aren’t completely lost (especially bass player, Drew McConnell) but it is painfully obvious that they could have used another month’s rehearsal before the recording session.

What keeps the whole affair afloat (besides the unrelenting bass work of McConnell) is the always solid and occasionally stunning lyricism of Pete Doherty. Anyone who was a fan of his first band, The Libertines, can attest that this is a man who knows how to paint a verbal picture and turn a phrase. Witness the bitter lovelorn poetry of the song “Albion”, where Doherty pleads with the “pale thin girl behind the checkout”, “If you’re looking for a cheap sort/set in false anticipation/I’ll be waiting in the phone booth/at the Underground station.” In other tracks, he paints a bitter and sometimes bitingly hilarious picture of the darker side of life in London that rivals such fellow scribes as Paul Weller and Damon Albarn.

Considering the dearth of great British rock and pop music that is being put out these days, it’s a shame that the record that could have been a shining beacon ends up looking more like the fading headlights of a car as the battery goes dead. Maybe some maturity and sobriety will set Doherty on the right path and we will see a spark of his former glory in future Babyshambles efforts. Until then, we’ll have to suffer through this shambolic mess of an album.

Babyshambles, Down in Albion: D+