If only because it was collecting dust on my hard drive, I thought I would post excerpts from my rejected
33 1/3 book proposal for
The Libertines' "Up the Bracket". Let me know what you think.
Outline:“Up The Bracket” is simultaneously brilliant and flawed. It represents both a fulfillment of a musical vision and a dashing of hopes. It’s romantic, conflicted, and downright hostile at times.
While early reviews of the album focused on Buzzcocks and Clash comparisons, Pete Doherty is, to me, the true heir to Morrissey and Marr. Carl Barat was his foil; their relationship, reminiscent of that found in “The Severed Alliance”, created the tension seemingly required for British rock groups to reach their creative peak.
I would cover the band from their transformation into “The British Strokes” (a move largely orchestrated by their manager Banny), through the recording and promotion of “Up the Bracket”, and conclude with the night that Pete broke into Carl’s flat: the effective end of the band’s “Arcadian Dream”. Along the way, I’ll discuss how Pete and Carl's tumultuous relationship, the secret gigs, and the outlandish interviews. I’ll put all this in the context of the complex mythology Pete created for himself and the group both in his private diaries (The Books of Albion) and in his half-brilliant/half-delusional message board posts on thelibertines.org forum. This mythology revolved around, among other things, a utopia named “Arcadia”, a ship the band and their fans would sail to this utopia (the Albion), and the sense that he and others were part of a musical community without traditional borders.
In addition, I would like to do a song-by-song breakdown of the album, giving special focus to key songs like “Time for Heroes”, “Horrowshow”, and “The Good Old Days”. At its best, the album is philosophical, poetic, energized, and emotionally unbridled. The tenderness of Pete’s melodies and sentiments, and how they contrast with the guitar attack of Barat and the rock-solid rhythm section of Gary Powell and John Hassal, will also be discussed. As I described it in one review, “The truth is there's never been a British band quite like the Libertines. Where you expect them to thrash through a song, they turn surprisingly sensitive. Where sweetness might be more fitting, Barat, Doherty, Hassal and Powell pummel the song into submission. It's like Morrissey and Marr hired a Motown rhythm section and decided to form a Sex Pistols cover band.”
What my 33 1/3 book would not concentrate on, unlike most recent literature on Doherty, would be his excessive drug use. By his own account, his crack use began during the recording of “Up the Bracket”. But at least at this time, his drug consumption was a means to an end, not the crippling and sad addiction that it would later become. The goal of this approach would be to avoid confusing Pete’s inherent talent with drug-fuelled delusions; this was the moment just before he spiraled out of control, just before his antics overshadowed his art.
Favorite 33 1/3 Book:My favorite book in the 33 1/3 series is Bill Janowitz’s “Exile on Main St”. Besides speaking knowledgeably about the arrangements and the recording process, he gives the reader a strong sense of the mythology behind the record and the effect that it has had on successive generations. Even if the mythology is ultimately an illusion, as Janowitz suggests, there is a sort of bittersweet resignation to the power of the legend. There is a sense that even though he was deceived by it, he would fall for it all over again if could. That’s the lasting appeal of the best rock records. “Up the Bracket” by The Libertines definitely falls into this category, and therefore deserves its own book in the 33 1/3 series.
The most fitting way I can end this proposal is with a quote from my live review:
“What in the end, then, draws people to The Libertines? Perhaps it's because through the fog of the pipe, through the throng of hangers-on and opportunists, one can make out some sliver of truth. And maybe love for The Libertines is somehow a form of nostalgia; nostalgia for that sliver of truth that one knows can't last long...and must someday soon disappear forever.”Labels: features, libertines, mp3
